The Book of Temple Ghosts Part I

"Master Jinn, please, I have another question."

"Bant," Qui-Gon said dully as he tried to push past the Mon Calamari padawan out of the doorway she blocked with great determination.

"But I have a question." She smiled broadly pressing her hands tight against the frame. "If you would just go with me to the sparring rooms."

Qui-Gon silently noted the desperation in Bant's attempt to lure him away from the small corridor he was presently trying to enter. "Padawan Eerin." It took all of his self-control to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Padawan Eerin," he repeated irritably. "You will move or I will have a talk with your master about your obstruction of my journey."

Bant frowned then grinned wildly. "We should go and talk to her right now!"

The Jedi Master just stared at her. Slowly he folded his arms over his chest and huffed irritably. Then slowly he started to withdraw from the doorway.

The padawan loosened her grip ever so slightly at the sight of the retreating master.

Turning with lightening quick reflexes he grasped her salmon colored wrist and whipped the girl out of his way. The padawan let out a surprised cry as she was roughly pulled behind the master when he stormed down the hall.

"You know," Bant continued quite loudly, "I think we need to have a long talk with my Master, let's go—"

"Be quiet," Qui-Gon demanded as he roughly palmed the first door open.

Standing there in the small storage closet, Obi-Wan straightened slightly never taking his gaze from his master. His upper torso was bare and he held his rumpled tunic in his grip but made no attempt to finish dressing.

"Just as I thought," the agitated master growled as he spied the figure standing behind his apprentice. Not that he had ever doubted his suspicions. "Padawan Keizian, present yourself."

Obi-Wan remained perfectly still, keeping himself protectively between his master and the cowering figure behind him.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon said evenly.

"It is all right," came the soft voice of Halla Keizian as she stepped out from behind the twenty-year-old.

She barely rose to Obi-Wan's bare shoulder and looked awkward wrapped in his oversized cloak. "Master Jinn," she said humbly as she lowered her gaze to the floor. Her short, brown hair brushed gently against her fine cheekbones.

Humility was not going to save them this time. His gaze never left Obi-Wan's. "Maybe I was wrong about allowing this little distraction to go on as long as it did without intervening. When I said to end it, I meant it."

Obi-Wan tried to argue, "Master—"

"Be quiet!" Qui-Gon barked as he folded his arms across his chest.

Bant peeked around the folds of the master's cloak into the room where Obi-Wan and Halla were cornered. She gave her friend an apologizing look.

The young man nodded in return.

"Padawan Eerin you will return to you quarters."

"Master Jinn—"

The tall master twisted, glaring at the Mon Calamari. "You will do as I say, your master will be informed of your coercion with this."

"Sorry, Obi," she said softly as she quickly withdrew under the master's cold glare.

"You did not have to treat her like that," Obi-Wan said evenly, showing little fear of the upset master.

As soon as Bant had fled the scene the master turned his considerable attention to the two silent padawans. "As usual you are two busy thinking about yourself—"

"Master—"

"Be quiet!" Qui-Gon demanded with such fire in his voice that the young man withdrew a step. "You both have been warn about these flirtations. Now you have gotten Bant in trouble."

"Master—"

Qui-Gon raised a hand silence the youth again. "Padawan Keizian," he said coldly, turning on the nervous girl. "You will dress and return my apprentice's cloak to him. Then you will return to your quarters. I will inform your master, who is also looking for you, of your whereabouts." Turning back to Obi-Wan. "Grab your belongings and step out into the corridor, now." He gave no room for argument.

Obi-Wan stepped out into the corridor with his master and palmed the door closed behind him. His gaze lingered on the dull surface as he pulled his tunic on.

"This childish indiscretion—"

The apprentice shot him a hurtful look but said nothing.

Yes, this was a natural act between padawans. At some point they all explored, but a good master would make sure that it did not last long or distract from their studies. He just could not understand the boy's need to disobey him. Not for something as trivial as a childish flirtation.

The door softly slid open and Qui-Gon decided he would have plenty of time to think about it later.

The short, dark haired girl stepped out into the hall and handed Obi-Wan his cloak. She said nothing but kept her eyes to the floor.

For all of her humility, Qui-Gon knew the girl was problematic. She had a history of being censured by the Council for ignoring protocol and doing things her way.

She was a bad influence.

Only direct confrontation seemed to get her attention. Without hesitation, the Jedi Master grabbed the two padawans by the arm and hauled them into the main corridor.

"Master," Obi-Wan started to complain as he noted the curious looks of knights and padawans. The embarrassment high in his voice, "Master, please, let go."

Halla tried to twist round to bury her face against Qui-Gon's cloak sleeve but the master made her face forward again.

He felt a brief spike of anger through the training bond and half-expected Obi-Wan to say something but the young man did not.

"You both think you are old enough to break the rules," the older man said gruffly as he paraded the shamed padawans through the Temple, "then you both will suffer the consequences."

_________________

The Book of the Changing Galaxy

The tall Jedi Master wandered quietly over to the expansive windows of the Naboo delegation's apartments. Qui-Gon Jinn stared blandly out into the bright Coruscant afternoon. He carefully eyed the heightened military and security patrols that cruised just beyond the safety of the walls.

The apartment had been checked and the young Senator had temporarily retired down the hall to the private quarters.

He turned slightly to see his apprentice quietly standing in the center of the common room. Anakin waited rather impatiently for the young woman to reappear.

The apprentice turned and met his master's deep blue eyes.

Through unspoken words, Qui-Gon understood the distance in the youth's eyes.

Anakin turned away.

For a while Qui-Gon just studied Anakin's profile.

The little boy was now a young man.

It did not go unnoticed how the apprentice looked at Senator Amidala. He would have to speak to the youth at a more appropriate time. It was another distraction that Anakin did not need. He would just explain it to the young man.

Slowly the master turned back to the window. His thoughts drifted to the meeting in the Chancellor's office.

The Force had sung to the older Jedi. They had no reason to ascend the great structure. No reason to see if the Chancellor was all right. He had been guided there. It left Qui-Gon to wonder for what reason.

Was it to protect the Naboo senator as he had once before?

Or was it for that brief moment where he could face his former apprentice?

Obi-Wan had gone out of his way to avoid any contact with him in the five years since. Often leaving a room, no matter how large, the moment Qui-Gon had stepped in.

There had been times that he had wanted just to speak with the young master. Times when he had walked through the Temple with purpose only to stop at the sight of Obi-Wan.

He could never interrupt the ginger haired man's happiness. Every time he had seen his former apprentice, Obi-Wan was in the company of the little boy. His padawan.

There was nothing important enough to say. He did not want to be responsible for robbing Obi-Wan of the gentle smile he offered the small apprentice.

The padawan—Bali—had grown so much in so little time. He was no longer a frightened little boy that sought shelter behind the folds of his master's cloak. With every passing day, Bali became more like Obi-Wan, reminding the older man of the boy he had gotten to know on Bandomeer.

The tender brush of the training bond made Qui-Gon turn to face the still waiting Anakin. His own apprentice's expression was solemn, almost sad before glancing away again.

Qui-Gon did not allow his gaze to falter from the youth.

His padawan.

The Chosen One.

He could see that the dusty little boy from Tatooine was now the handsome young man standing in the middle of the room. Anakin had conquered the anger that had so plagued him when he was younger. Had long since surpassed the other padawans his age and the old master was having a time keeping ahead of Anakin's needs. It was not a tragedy by any means. Still, Anakin did become bored with the lessons and was known to allow his mind to wander when Qui-Gon lapsed in his teaching.

The young man's lack of focus seemed to be the last great obstacle. When he overcame that, he would be ready for his trials. Just another year, maybe two and Anakin would be the youngest knight in the Order.

Soon, the young man would fulfill his destiny.

Allowing his attention to flow back to the slowly passing security patrols his thoughts drifted a little further as he thought of the galaxy he was going to send his apprentice out in.

Things were changing, too fast for comfort. The Senate was under attack both politically and physically.

The Aveniar Imperium and nearly thirty home worlds and colonies had drawn a line around themselves in an attempt to succeed from the Republic. There were more worlds tilting to join the League of Seccession.

Matters were not being helped by a series of brutal assassinations of various Senators and leaders on both sides. Tensions were escalating.

The venerable Jedi master turned again to see his tall apprentice standing silently in the center of the common room. What kind of world would it be for his padawan? It certainly would be more dangerous than the one he himself ventured into upon his own knighthood.

In the last few months alone three Jedi had been murdered simply because they were Jedi. Far to many to count had been expelled from planets. The League had instated an edict that Jedi are not allowed to travel within their space without certain permissions and those were difficult to obtain.

They were considered spies or Ambassadors of the Republic and were no longer welcome.

These were dangerous times.

Even within the Republic sentiment toward the Jedi was turning.

History had taught Qui-Gon Jinn that this was the way things were. The Jedi would come under fire as they had many times in their thousand generations of existence.

They would persevere over the darkness.

The Jedi would continue as they always had.

Qui-Gon turned just as Padmé entered the common room from her private chambers. A concerned look graced her face.

"Senator?" he asked carefully.

She folded her delicate hands together, then clasped and unclasped her fingers. "The attackers had been tracked down." There was an uncertain silence that followed. "The reports are just coming in."

"Take your time," Anakin pressed with a warm smile as he took her hand.

A startled look danced in Padmé's eyes before she took the gentle guidance to a nearby chair. "A patrol found the ship on the outskirts of the recycling sector." Again she fell into silence. "They are dead. These—these attackers—are dead!" Emotions boiled up in her as she twisted her hands together. "Someone had killed them and just left them there to be found."

"Who were the attackers?" Anakin asked as he knelt before the chair.

"They are still trying to figure that out," Padmé said dully, the stress of the day weighed heavily in her voice. Lines of distress creased her delicate features. "They were beheaded. Their heads are missing."

Anakin exchanged an uncharacteristically surprised look with his master.

"This is a very sophisticated ring," Qui-Gon said as he paced back to the center of the room.

"We will protect you at all costs," Anakin said firmly as he eyed the Senator. "I promise."

_______________

The Book of Strange Company

Oblivious to the din of the cafeteria, Bant leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. Her large silver eyes blinked and squinted slightly. She leaned back in her chair, still focused. Again the Mon Calamari Healer leaned forward. "You look tired," she finally announced.

"Keen observation," Obi-Wan grunted between spoonfuls of sandow soup.

"Well, you know," she propped her elbows on the table again, "I trained for years to notice things like that."

Obi-Wan paused to adjust his cloak sleeve then gave his friend a dull look before focusing on the still filled soup bowl. Sighing he went back to eating.

"You just be stubborn," Bant huffed in mock irritation before turning her attention to Bali. The apprentice sat dutifully on the bench next to his master happily gnawing on a plate of strange purple fruits and nerf steak. She patiently waited until the boy stopped to take a breath but that did not happen. Jerking a thumb to her friend, she asked, "Is he always this grouchy?"

Bali looked up with a mouthful of food and nodded.

"Just as I thought." Ever since she and her padawan had sat down across from the boys, the healer had been struggling to lighten up the mood. She was surprised that even Bali seemed strangely solemn. But she would not ask why their last mission brought such a somber mood.

"Let him eat," Obi-Wan whispered as he stirred the soup around the bowl.

At first, Bant just watched before rolling her silver eyes. "He eats enough for all of us."

"I'm growing," Bali responded between mouthfuls.

"Into a bantha," Liril, Bant's Vesian padawan responded from behind her sparse plate of fresh fruits.

Bali narrowed his eyes, then stuck his purple stained tongue out at her.

"Icky boy," Liril said as she made a face back at him.

The dark haired boy stopped and stared at the girl for a moment. He smiled devilishly before licking his palm and quickly slapped it down over Liril's.

The cafeteria shuddered to a sudden halt as a shrill cry ripped from the tiny ten-year-old.

Liril jumped up and down wailing as if she had been mortally wounded. "Icky boy! I've got boy germs!"

"No one has ever died from boy germs," Bant giggled as she handed the girl a wet cloth.

As if possessed, she struggled to scrub her hand clean.

Bant sighed and turned back to her plate. "It will take a while to decontaminate herself."

"You will apologize to Liril for that," Obi-Wan said.

"Yes, Master." Bali grinned at the small, pink padawan with blue/black hair. "I am sorry. I do not think I have that many germs."

"Bali," came a stern reprimand.

"Sorry, Master." Bali humbly lowered his head. "Sorry, Liril."

"Icky boy," Liril growled as she flopped back down on the bench but kept a suspicious eye on the boy across from her.

Still laughing, Bant shook her head. "You just bring it upon yourself thinking like that. Liril, my sweet, some day you will understand that not all boys are icky."

"I doubt it," the little girl argued.

Playfully Bant grabbed Obi-Wan's wrist and drug his hand across the table. In the natural light from the skylights, she turned his palm up. "See, no boy germs."

"Of course not, he is old," Bali pointed out between bites of nerf.

Obi-Wan straightened slightly and frowned at the insult. "I will remember that during saber practice."

The little boy giggled.

"Uh huh, just as I thought. You like to live dangerously," Bant teased as she continued to play with Obi-Wan's callused hand. "See? I am not screaming."

"Icky," Liril still insisted

The master pulled his hand free of Bant's salmon grip and pushed the soup bowl away. Without a word, the healer shoved the bowl back in front of him. Her playful expression gone, replaced with a sharp look that dared to be disobeyed.

Both stared at each other for a time, then Obi-Wan tiredly took a grudging spoonful.

During the exercise of wills, the apprentices had sat there curiously watching.

The healer turned her attention to Bali. "Do I have to make you eat too?"

Bali shook his head quickly and gulped down a berry. He gave her a purple smile. Then he turned to Obi-Wan. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"What did that woman mean when she said you would be good in—"

"Nothing," came the quick reply. "She meant nothing."

A mischievous glow danced in Bant's eyes. "Do tell," she playfully said as she leaned forward, propping her chin on her knuckles. "Good in what?"

"Bant," Obi-Wan growled.

"Bed," Bali said quickly earning a sharp look from his master.

"Now you know I just love it when you turn that particular shade of red," Bant teased.

"But I do not know why," Bali continued, undaunted. "He snores a lot. She would never get any sleep."

"I do not snore," Obi-Wan objected.

"Yes, you do," Bant and Bali said simultaneously.

Obi-Wan twisted to face the boy next him as he pushed the soup bowl away. "We shall discuss this in private," he said evenly.

The healer shoved the bowl back into front of her friend. "Was she pretty?" she asked Bali.

"Do not encourage her," Obi-Wan ordered.

Bali just shrugged. "She sure asked Master a lot of questions."

"Is there something I should know?" Bant inquired, grinning wickedly.

"No," was Obi-Wan's short reply.

Bali made a face. "She wanted to know if Master took falls in his spare time. Why would anyone like to fall?"

"Fall?" Bant looked curiously from the boy to the still blushing master. She could not help but to laugh at the deep shade of red Obi-Wan had turned. There was no leap of the imagination to understand. Laughing so hard her eyes began to water.

Obi-Wan sighed unhappily. "Can we please talk about the weather?"

Barely finding her composure, Bant stared at her poor, embarrassed friend. "It is climate controlled and it is not scheduled to change for days." A part of her felt bad for breaking up at Obi-Wan's expense but she truly did love that particular shade of red that colored his cheeks. "Now about this fall—"

"I do not want to discuss it," Obi-Wan said firmly.

Bant opened her mouth to continue to tease but stopped. Her salmon features turned a brighter shade as she held her hand over her mouth. Eyes watered terribly.

Liril looked up at the quivering figure next to her and asked worriedly, "Master? Are you okay?"

Bant's hilarity induced seizure continued unabated.

Watching dully, Obi-Wan's own composure slowly returned. Pushing the soup bowl away again, he turned his attention to his cloak. Shifting slightly, he pulled at the edges, wrapping it tight around his form. A small, almost unnoticed wince escaped.

The padawan next to him quickly shifted his attention back to the bursting healer.

The Mon Calamari pounded her fist against the table before finally breaking up into wild laughter. Tears streamed over her skin as attention fell to Bali. "Stop by the office later, I have some data chips for you to study."

"Bant," Obi-Wan growled.

"I am confused," Bali said.

"Good," was his master's quick reply.

Straightening herself up, she said, "She must be special if she can get past your wonderful personality to proposition you."

Obi-Wan grabbed his tray as he abruptly stood up. His tone was low and filled with warning as he spoke to Bant, "If I ever speak to you again—"

"Oh you will," Bant replied quickly, undaunted, "I am the only other person outside Bali who can stand you." She paused. "And the mystery woman."

For her trouble, she got a coarse look.

Bali dutifully stood up to join his master.

"No," Obi-Wan tiredly replied. "Sit down. Finish your meal. Take care of what you have to. I am going to be working on my reports. I suspect you need to meet with your instructors?"

There was hesitation as he stared worriedly up at his master, then the apprentice slowly complied. "Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan quietly walked away as Bali sank back to the bench and played with his food.

Just watching.

Bant dabbed the remaining tears away. "I would not worry to much about him. I would be a lousy friend if I did not give him grief on a regular basis. Besides, someone needs to shake grumpy up." She tried to smile, still a little surprised that Obi-Wan had actually walked off.

"Oh," Bali said not really understanding. Looking over to the healer, the boy whispered softly, "I do not think he has been feeling very well."

"I know."

___________________

The Book of Quiet Conversations

Two silent masters stared down from the safety of an upper level walkway. For some time, they had just studied the ebb and flow of Jedi moving through one of the Temple arteries.

Master Na'tho, the elderly initiate supervisor, straightened slightly the moment Bali Tiro existed the hall leading from the cafeteria. His gentle eyes followed the padawan through the tide of varied cloaks.

Bali quietly ducked and dodged the larger forms that seemed oblivious to the boy's movements.

The old master reached curiously out on the Force and lightly scanned the apprentice. His mental probes slid off dense shields. After a moment of trying, he was content to just watch the apparently happy boy.

Along the wall, Bali stopped to speak to one of his age mates. Their laughter echoed through the corridor over the constant footfalls. After a few moments of quiet conversation, Bali and the other boy went their separate way.

The initiate supervisor strained slightly to see where the boy had disappeared in the hall traffic. "He has changed so much. Hardly the little boy I taught." His words shattered the silence that clung to the sparsely populated upper level walkway.

"Hmm," was the only reply of his companion.

"I suppose you are patiently waiting for me to give in and say you were right all along?"

"Admit it you need not, know we both do."

"Prideful little troll," Na'tho growled.

Yoda chuckled but kept his large gaze focused on the small thirteen-year-old.

At the lift bay, Bali stopped and patiently waited. Out of habit, he folded his arms into the sleeves of his cloak and lilted slightly to one side. His gaze remained empty of emotion, but indicated his total awareness of his surroundings.

Bright green eyes flashed and Bali looked up catching the two silently watching masters. He gave them a curious smile and then turned his attention back to the action of the corridor.

"He has adopted too many of his master's characteristics," Na'tho noted quietly.

"Stop it, we could not. Like him the boy is."

Bali twisted slightly to look up at the two wizened masters again. The look of concern that colored his features faded with the soft chime of a nearby lift door. He immediately disappeared into the small compartment.

After the apprentice had gone, Na'tho turned and silently studied Yoda's serene expression. The old supervisor lightly brushed his fingers, through his thick, white beard. He had always been curious to the ancient one's interest in Bali.

There were so many bright stars among the boy's age mates. So many destined for great things. And yet, Yoda chose to center his attentions on the quiet child, who for so long did not seem to have a future in the Order.

What did Yoda see so plainly that he could not?

"Master—"

"Speak no more of this, we should," Yoda said quickly banging his staff against the floor in a sudden fit. "Awaits, a hot meal does. Discuss the other children, we shall."

For a moment, Na'tho warily eyed the little green master. A certainty settled deep within him that there was much more to Yoda's little tantrum than hunger. Unwilling to challenge Yoda, Na'tho walked along side the ancient master until they reached a more secluded corridor.

"I find it quite interesting," the initiate supervisor baited as he came to a sudden stop, "that a child born on a Corellian mining colony would have a Ximi name. After all, the Xim are not known for being too open to outsiders, let alone leaving their home world."

"Know the origin of all children? Expect me to, do you?" Yoda asked as he stopped and craned his neck back to stare up at the tall, thin master. His large yellow eyes held a hint of challenge in them but Yoda said no more.

"No, of course not, Master," Na'tho retreated slightly. "I just thought that since the boy was of particular interest to you that you would be privy to such information.

"Ignore the child, I cannot. Taking up space in my meditation place, he always is."

____________________

The Book of the Master and Padawan Part I

The ancient Jedi master hobbled through the small meditation garden. The rich scent of alien flora had already begun to relax his small frame. Yoda knew he would need all the help he could get. Long discussions and arguments within the Council had given him no insight to the encroaching darkness. So much weighed heavily on his mind. The news of a possible Sith reemergence as reported Qui-Gon Jinn had unsettled him and given voice to that feeling of dread that had haunted him for so long.

Such a powerful darkness was brewing and yet, it had remained elusive to him.

Worse, was the matter of the boy Qui-Gon had insisted on bringing before the Council.

While he could not sense the dark side of the Force, he could sense the danger in training the slave boy. The ancient one sensed Anakin was quickly becoming the center of a terrible storm.

Yoda felt that all he could do was meditate and try to find balance in the situation. At least until the boy was returned to the Temple following whatever happened with the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo.

He could sense the young queen would defeat the invaders, but he knew it would not be a victory. A terrible machine had been set in motion that was destined to destroy the light.

Just as the little master approached his favorite mediation spot, he stopped. Wearily he leaned against his gimer stick staring longingly into his favorite place.

Comfortably perched beneath a yawen tree was a four-year-old boy. His dark brown hair stood up in uneven spikes. The small form saw the green master and grinned before puffing up his cheeks.

Anakin's arrival brought forth the knowledge of things that could never be.

Yoda hobbled over to the green boy and was met with a silly face.

"Belong in this garden, initiates do not," the little master said as he sat down on a root next to the boy.

The initiate scrunched up his face and folded his arms defensively across his chest. "I stay here," he announced.

Big yellow eyes just studied the defiant child. "Hmm."

"Hmm," the initiate mocked then made another silly face and broke up laughing. "Funny creature," he giggled.

Yoda's ears drooped slightly. He cleared his throat and straightened slightly. "Know me, do you?"

"Master Yoda," came the proud proclamation.

That was a good start, the master decided. "Explain, you will, why you are here."

The boy shrugged and made another face at the master.

Yoda quickly reached out and caught the boy by the chin. "Stay like that, your face will. Then look like me, you will." The master then scrunched up his face, exaggerating the wrinkles.

A chipper little giggle filled the garden.

"Name you have?" Even though, Yoda knew all too well.

"Bali." The initiate announced as if he were unsure.

"Hmm."

"Hmm." Bali mimicked the thoughtful expression. Then he smiled, showing a gap-toothed grin. "I stay here," he shook his head sadly, "not so scary."

"Frightened you should not be."

Bali frowned. Drawing inward slightly, he made himself look even smaller. "There was a monster," he whispered conspiratorially to the little master. "I saw it." Fear flashed in his big green eyes.

"Tell me, you will," Yoda replied gently, offering the quivering form reassurance through the Force.

Bali just shook his head.

Yoda held up his gimer stick and waved it until he had captured the boy's attention. "Protect you I will. Safe it is. Tell me you can." Even a four-year-old initiate knew he wielded his stick with power and authority and nothing would dare defy Yoda.

"It has horns," Bali said softly. He paused to look around cautiously. "A scary face."

"What is the monster doing?"

"Fighting Jedi." Bali whimpered. "Angry and afraid. Scared." He looked across to the quiet master. His bright green eyes quivered with question and worry. "So afraid."

_____________________

The Book of Shadows

Even the darkest night was never truly dark.

The ambient glow of Coruscant cast a soft amber light against a great, curving balcony that stood imperiously above the lively city planet at twilight. A constant, dull roar of the traffic lines echoed off the massive building.

Senate security cruised faithfully past as they did every few minutes.

As soon as the small airborne vehicle made the broad curve around the office building, two dark cloaked figures stepped from the shadows. Their foot steps silent as they glided across the balcony to the high, protective railing.

Darth Sidious swept the trailing edge of his cloak around with the regal formality of a politician dealing with his robes. At the railing, he tilted his head upward into the fading natural light revealing a wrinkled jaw line. "Everything is proceeding as planned." There was a slight hesitation. "Except that affair with Nochian Spex. I underestimated his resolve to live."

"The poison should have been undetectable," a mechanical voice hissed from beneath the second hood.

"Would have been for anyone but Spex. Kenobi was not entirely forthcoming with his information on the old man's death." The cultured voice paused. "We must discover what secret Spex imparted to him."

"Yes, Master."

Another patrol passed close to the balcony but it brought no concern to the Sith lord. The patrol was blind to their presence on the secure balcony.

"Your training has served you well, my apprentice," Sidious said flatly to the other.

The shrouded figure bowed humbly.

"The Republic is faltering. A few more well placed deaths and it will collapse into civil war without even a push." In the end, that was the goal, Sidious decided. Set the pieces in motion and sit back while all the work is done by squabbling, greedy, war mongering politicians.

The dark lord turned to the silent companion. Cruel eyes studied the dull black mask, an imitation of a face the apprentice wore.

There were other matters than just causing the Republic to fall to chaos.

Young Skywalker.

Sidious had sensed the well-concealed rage that boiled within the young man. The untapped jealousy that could easily explode into a fiery rage. Yes, the dark lord knew of the power the boy wielded.

Knew that the time was upon him to draw it out.

The young, Naboo senator was the key.

The boy was a weapon that he needed in his arsenal to bring down the Jedi, the only thing that stood between him and total domination.

The apprentice's mask reflected the amber glow from below, as invisible eyes seemed to study the elder man.

The apprentice was an excellent assassin with an unmatched blood lust. Unfortunately, the apprentice was also hard to control. He had not had the time to cultivate a proper apprentice like Maul.

Sidious did not trust things about the younger Sith.

When the assassin's usefulness ended, the dark lord would put the wretched beast out of its misery.

Until then, there were things to be taken care of.

"I sense that Kenobi will soon be meddling in my plans. If he interferes I want him dead, Vengier, do you understand me?"

The other twisted, revealing the smooth black mask under the cowl. The mechanically created voice hissed. "I shall destroy him," the Sith assassin replied with relish.

"Good. He has been a thorn in my side for far too long. I will not have him costing me any more time or resources." Sidious hesitated as a wicked smile glossed his partially concealed features. "Bring me a trophy of his death, my pet."

"I will bring you his heart, my lord."

_____________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part II

The lights of the Calor research colony did little to diminish the impact of the expansive black blanket of night that threatened to swallow all but the most brilliant of light. Stars burned brilliantly against the intense backdrop. Masa Major, the Great Father, was the large pale yellow moon that was nearing its zenith in the night sky. Just at the top edge of the satellite was a bright, white glow. Masa Minor, the Son of Light, was beginning its escape of the parent moon.

The tiny, white moon in its quick orbit tracked across the sky. It seemed so close that Obi-Wan could almost touch it.

Of course, that required raising his arm. Something the knight was not quire sure he was capable of.

The wicked chill in the Xim night had amplified the ache in his injured body. The broken section of railing beneath him did not help.

Obi-Wan's strength was waning and he knew if he did not try to get to safety, he never would.

A low groan escaped him, the first sound he had allowed since the fall. Gritted teeth and tightly closed eyes had kept the pained cries in check but he did not know how much longer that was possible. Not even the chilled numbness could ease the pain that raged through him.

For a while longer, he just stared blankly at the landing platform above. No one had even come to the platform to see what had happened. It would be morning before the staff in the government building arrived. It would be some time before they looked out a window and saw the devastation below.

Time that was quickly passing like Masa Minor over the night sky.

He could not remain.

Calling to the Force, the knight carefully accepted and released the pain and dampened what would not go away. Then biting back the sudden sharp pain that seemed to be crushing him from the inside, he rolled onto his side.

It was so cold.

His cloak that was twisted around him felt so heavy and made it difficult to move. Cold, numb fingers struggled with the material to pull it free from around his legs. Tears flowed down his cheeks from tightly closed eyes.

Blindly reaching out, he found the broken piece of rail that he had slammed into and them fallen upon and shoved it out of the way. Finding a nearby pillar, he used it to pull himself to his feet. It took all of his upper body strength to make up for the weakness he found in his legs.

Through clenched teeth, Obi-Wan grunted softly, but did not give into pain that was quickly overcoming him.

He looked around the cargo area where he had fallen. Then his gaze swept past the pale yellow lights and up into the grated durasteel that made up the landing platform. He could make out some of the ships still waiting.

It would be easiest just to take one of the cruisers.

There was doubt that his strength would hold out to get him out of orbit.

Across the cargo area, he could see a staircase.

Tightening his resolve, Obi-Wan took a careful step forward, his grip slowly loosening on the pillar. His weight fell to his weakened legs and he stumbled, sinking to the cold floor.

Pulling more sharply on the Force, Obi-Wan was able to bolster his strength to get back to his feet and make it to a group of nearby crates.

Halfway there.

It hurt to breathe.

It hurt.

Just hurt.

A few more steps and he fell back to the durasteel panel floor.

Get up.

He had to get up.

There was too much at stake to stop now.

Qin Luc was dead.

Murdered just feet from the safety of his transport. Murdered under his protection.

Halla had betrayed him in the cruelest possible way.

He had trusted her when he should not have.

Not that he could have done anything about it. Trocha had taken care of that.

Trocha.

The Council would have to be warned that he was not an ally and all ties with him needed to be severed. The Melorians needed to be informed that the researcher was dead. Finally, he needed to pass off the images he had taken of Trocha's research facility off to the proper authorities.

Get up.

Obi-Wan was almost to the stairs before his legs gave out and he hit the hard steps. A soft groan escaped. Slowly he twisted around to look up the steep staircase that led back up to the landing platform.

Hope drifted away at the sight of a large section of debris embedded toward the top of the staircase. In the twisted mass of wreckage, Obi-Wan could just make out the insignia and blue stripe that had once been a part of his ship.

He sank against the cold steps.

A soft whirring from the edge of the area drew the knight's attention. Obi-Wan raised his head slightly to see a cargo lift slowly descending into the storage area.

"Man, I thought you were dead." The voice of the unrevealed rider called out into the silent night air.

Obi-Wan raised his head slightly higher to better see a dark dressed figure. He did not sense a threat and even if he did, he could not actually respond to it.

"She was right, you are hard to kill," the man said as he stepped off the lift and slowly approached.

"What?" Obi-Wan strained to study the approaching figure.

A dark skin man approached.

A pilot, or pirate, the weary knight decided when he spied two blaster holsters barely concealed under the man's jacket.

The man stopped, turning slightly to listen to something, his long, thin braided hair snagged on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan let his head sink to the steps.

Slowly the man turned his attention back to the fallen knight. The platform's yellow lights caught the intricate silver tattoos that graced his forehead.

A Golian.

A pirate.

The man approached the injured Jedi without fear and knelt down next to him. His dark eyes studied the barely conscious figure. He gave a roguish grin. "Name's Ekaro Kinyo and I am at your service."

The knight half groaned, "I don't—"

"Have too much of a choice," Kinyo said as he pulled Obi-Wan's arm across his shoulder and carefully hauled the Jedi to his feet. Then he started to lead Obi-Wan back to the lift. "I am in the private employ of Halla Keizian."

Obi-Wan tensed.

"I take care of getting the supplies for her personal projects around here." He laughed as he helped Obi-Wan onto the raised cargo lift platform. "Seems you were her newest pet project. She wanted you off the planet and as far away from that jealous husband of hers."

"Halla is dead," Obi-Wan said softly as the lift raised up to the landing platform.

"That may be so, but she paid in advance and I am not in the habit of breaking contracts. Besides, that Force witch will probably haunt me if I tried."

Obi-Wan gave a weak laugh.

Kinyo twisted around and the knight froze.

Qin Luc still lay where she had been murdered.

"Nothing you can do for her," Kinyo said softly.

"I should at least see that she is returned to her people," Obi-Wan argued, refusing to move.

"They will find her in the morning. Dead, she is of no use to them and they will send her back to her people without argument. Trust me, that is the way things are done around here. They won't do anything to stir up anymore attention than they have too." Kinyo made the knight start walking toward the waiting ship.

They did not get very far before Obi-Wan tried to pull free.

"Halla," the knight breathed but Kinyo stopped him from going to her side.

Obi-Wan noticed the deep blue robe Halla wore was still twisted around her body. A dark trail of blood ran from where she had been repeatedly shot to where she had crawled to before collapsing. He dark hair blew in the slight breeze.

"You know as we both do, that we must get going," Kinyo urged, pulling the knight roughly toward the waiting ship.

Obi-Wan never took his eyes from her. He just wanted to cover her up so she would not lay there exposed to just everyone who cast a glance in her direction. One pale, perfect arm reached across the platform toward the broken railing.

"The Xim will find her in the morning," Kinyo urged. "They will take care of her. Give her a proper funeral."

The Jedi did not possess the strength to free himself of Kinyo and was led to the safety of the small transport.

_____________

The Book of Thoughtful Gifts

"Honest, that is what Master Windu did!" Bali exclaimed seriously but could not keep the grin in check and quickly broke up into laughter along with the taller boy he walked with.

"Sure." his friend, Awar, laughed as they walked down the residential hall. "I will believe that the day I sprout wings and fly around the Council chambers."

Bali giggled as he adjusted the strap of the workbag that hung off his shoulder. "I would rather see Master Windu fly around the Council chamber."

"You are bad!" Awar teased, playfully taking a swing at the smaller boy.

The dark haired apprentice dodged the swing and came to a stop in front of his apartment door. "Master expects me to be studying when he gets back. I am behind in my work. I did not really study while I was gone."

The tall, red headed padawan eyed Bali suspiciously. "Master He will not be happy when he finds out."

"He's never happy." Bali twisted around slightly. "I will just tell him I did not understand the work."

"Did you?" Awar asked softly.

Bali just shook his head. "Master keeps trying to help me, but it is still hard." He sighed as he fell back against the wall and banged the heel of his hand against the side of his head. He frowned sadly. "I heard if I did not get picked when I did I would never have become a padawan."

"You know you are not supposed to listen to rumors, especially silly ones like that." Awar studied the unhappy look on his friend's face. "Want to go to the pool?"

"You have homework and I have homework.

"Remember what happened the last time we skipped it for swimming?"

"We got grounded for a month," the other boy laughed.

"You got grounded for month," Bali quickly clarified. "I was not the one stupid enough to splash his master when he came looking for me."

"Oh. Who knew Master Pen'Uato did not like water."

"Everybody." Bali palmed his door open. "I will go swimming tomorrow."

"If you are here," Awar half complained. "How come you get to go on all the cool missions and I am stuck in the Temple?"

"Just lucky I guess."

"If I had your master, I would be lucky too."

Bali gave a little grin and stepped into the apartment allowing the door to slide quietly closed behind him. He stood completely still until he felt his friend wander down the hall to his own apartment.

Safe within the confines of the living quarters he shared with his master, Bali carried his little bag into his small room and tossed it on the desk. He stood there for a moment studying the brown material but made no attempt to open it.

It would just give him a headache if he tried.

He would do his homework later.

Maybe.

Turning his back on the work he crawled up on the sleep couch. For a long time, he just quietly studied his room. It had been over a week since he had slept in his own bed and was happily looking forward to the night.

His senses were open as he listened to the comfortable silence. Casting out carefully, he decided his master had not been there since before lunch.

Bali knew he would have to apologize when the chance offered itself. He did not understand why his master got upset and left. Healer Bant had tried to reassure him it was all right, but the apprentice still felt bad. He just wished he understood things better, then he would not ask silly questions or say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

A loud sigh escaped the little boy.

His gaze continued to sweep the small room, finally settling back on his desk where his lightsaber was. The sight elicited a small smile. He had cleaned it en route back to Coruscant from the wet muddy world they had left behind. It looked as good as it had the day he had completed it, which was not all that long ago.

A chill raced down his spine as the thought of the dying Tomenaar jumped to the forefront of his mind. He wrapped his arms defensively across his chest.

Desperately Bali pushed the memory of the old man's words back. He did not want to think of the prophecy that had been imparted to him.

Quickly seeking the pocket on the side of his utility belt, the padawan pulled out the river stone his master had so quietly given him. Bali completely focused his attention of the stone. It was curious, the boy decided. He knew that his master had slipped it into his hand while sleeping but the Jedi had said nothing about it since.

Carefully he turned it over in his small hands studying the line that encircled it where the stone had once been broken. He traced the small crevice before allowing the stone to rest in his open palm again. Instinctively, he sent a pulse on the Force to the stone.

To his surprise the previously unnoticed veins in the stone gave a soft red glow.

Bali shook his head in confusion. He had seen his master studying the stone many times. It seemed important to the older Jedi for some reason.

The stone also seemed to make his master a little sad too, Bali thought.

He still did not understand why his master had given it to him.

Carefully the boy laid the stone down on the sleep couch in front of him and just studied it for a long time.

The apprentice did not know if he should question his master about it or just wait.

Whatever he decided he knew he would take care of the stone. He carefully picked it up and cradled it in his hand. He would make sure that it was there in case his master ever needed it back.