The Book of Painful Truths

The healing center had been relatively quiet all day. Not for the lack of patients, as there were always padawans filling the waiting area with practice injuries.

It was quiet because Bant had the afternoon off.

Master Healer Dirad breathed in contentment as he walked through the exam room corridor. He looked forward to some uninterrupted time doing research. There were several padawans and a number more of healers taking care of everything so unless there was a major emergency–

The hand that clung tightly to a data pad fell to Dirad's side. His dark eyes stared into the exam room he had stopped in front of. He leaned back and stared down both directions of the corridor before looking back in. "Bant is not here and I don't see Bali so you must be lost," the master healer said as he stepped into the small room where Obi-Wan sat silently.

Receiving the answer he expected–none at all–he palmed the door closed behind him. The yellow skinned healer pressed a thin hand to Obi-Wan's forehead. He grumbled something incoherent before he turned his attention back to the data pad he carried. "Was it a cut?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"I cannot examine it if you do not bare it."

The younger man sighed and loosened his tunic, pulling it and his cloak free of his shoulder. He twisted slightly allowing Dirad easier access to the red rimmed gash across his shoulder blade.

The healer called on the Force and probed the torn, irritated flesh. He debated whether or not to say something to the Jedi but decided against it. There was nothing he could say that Obi-Wan did not already know.

Nothing he could say would change what was.

For a time, he just quietly went about cleaning the wound. He would at least do what he could to help the cut heal.

Obi-Wan winced against the gentle cleaning.

Dirad paused before returning to the work at hand. "She knows," he said flatly.

Still, Obi-Wan said nothing.

"She regularly checks the records when you return from a mission. She will know you have been in here."

"I do not pretend to hide anything from her."

"Good, because you would be stupid to do so." Again the healer paused when Obi-Wan growled with the application of antiseptic. "You know, she has spent the last several years studying Force healing. Soon she will be a master authority on it."

Obi-Wan remained silent.

The Master Healer sighed and continued to tend to the gash, his gaze studied the lines and knots of scars that covered the younger man's shoulder and flowed down his back and arm. "We can remove some of those scars–"

"No," Obi-Wan said flatly, quickly crushing the suggestion.

Dirad quirked and eyebrow but did not hesitate as he covered the wound in a bacta soaked bandage. "If this is not showing any signs of improvement in the next two days, I expect to see you back here. Do you understand?"

Obi-Wan nodded slightly.

"Otherwise, how are you feeling?"

"Same as usual."

In other words: No improvement.

As soon as Dirad had finished his work, Obi-Wan pulled his tunic neatly back into place. He then carefully worked to adjust his cloak warmly around his frame.

After cleaning up, Dirad picked up his data pad and leaned against the counter while he quietly made some notes. A dour expression danced over his features as he glanced across at the younger man. He mumbled something and added another notation. He looked up again. "What part of 'do not Force heal anyone' did you miss?"

Obi-Wan straightened defensively. "Master–"

"I can tell because I can," Dirad said flatly as he stared over the data pad. A fire lit his dark eyes. He had not known, merely guessed, but Obi-Wan's reaction divined the truth.

The Jedi glared at Dirad suspiciously. Frustration moved deep in his pale blue eyes. "Bali has to walk around like an accident. It is not fair to him." Obi-Wan stood up and paced around the small, sterile room.

"Nor would it be fair to the boy if his master kills himself because he is infuriatingly stubborn," the master healer said sternly. Dirad stopped his examination of a data pad and stared up at the other. "Sit down, you are giving me a cramp in my neck. Sit!"

Obediently, Obi-Wan returned to the edge of the exam table.

"Listen to me," Dirad warned, "no more of this foolishness."

Obi-Wan barely nodded, instead he cast his gaze down to his neatly shined boots.

"I hope it hurt," Dirad said.

There was a long silence.

"Quite."

"Good," was the master healer's only response.

Unhappily, Obi-Wan tugged at the edge of his cloak. He slipped from the exam table. Shrugging a little more, Obi-Wan went to the door and paused. "Thank you, Master." He did not look in the other man's direction, instead reached for the control panel.

"What you did," Dirad said quickly causing Obi-Wan to hesitate again, "saving Master Jinn, was something spectacular. I cannot put it any other way. Nor do I say this to encourage you. We were not meant to burn so bright to heal a mortal wound. Small injuries, yes, but not like the wound you healed."

"I did what I had to."

Dirad studied the younger master for a time. "I am not saying what you did was right or wrong. I am saying that as beings we have limitations. I know when you are young and foolish, you think you can do anything and live forever. The truth is it is not so."

"I know that–"

"Don't interrupt me." Dirad straightened slightly and shook the data pad threateningly at the Jedi. He stopped and checked his notes again. "You were very lucky."

In a slightly agitated motion, Obi-Wan shoved his hands deep into the folds of his sleeves. "How do you figure?" he asked sharply.

"I am sick with chills all the time. I am cold even on desert worlds. I cannot even heal a little cut on my padawan's forehead without pain and illness accompanying it."

"You could be dead," Dirad replied evenly. "You could still be in a vegetative state. Suffered more severe neurological damage that you did. I would say you are quite lucky. Very few get off as easily as you did."

Obi-Wan just frowned.

______________________

The Book of Dangerous Plans

The holo image of Bail Organa flickered and shimmered before evening out. "You cannot request the Jedi's help on behalf of the Senate without Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's express consent."

"Then we will carry this out without the Jedi. That just may be the advantage we need." Padmé said formally as she pressed her hands to the smooth wood of the elegant desk in her private office.

Senator Organa looked thoughtful for a moment. "Agreed." He hesitated momentarily, then turned slightly as if to eye the young woman who intently watched the display. "Who do you intend to sucker into leading this diplomatic envoy?"

Padmé just smiled.

His expression tensed. "Senator Amidala–"

"You would be perfect. Everyone trusts you, even the Aveniar."

"You have too much faith in me," Organa replied.

"It is well placed."

Organa glanced at something beyond the holo image. He nodded to an unseen interloper. Frowning, the regal visage returned his attention to Padmé. "Forgive me for cutting this message short. I will consider it."

"You already have."

"Yes but that is for another meeting."

"Of course, Senator," Padmé smiled as the image completely shimmered out.

Safely alone for the moment, she sank back into her tall backed chair and sighed loudly. Her weary gaze swept across the cluttered desk but she did not have the energy to straighten up the work. It would only fall into disarray again, so why try?

Had she known politics required so many forms and documents she would have found an easier occupation. Nerf herding, for instance.

The part of her that was still young and foolish giggled at the thought.

Slowly she rose from behind her desk but only took a few steps before stopping. Beyond the transparasteel dividing panel, at the far side of the luxurious suite she saw the Jedi apprentice quietly studying the hyper movement of the traffic outside.

He did not look anything like the little boy she had met on the sandy planet of Tatooine. There was no cherubic innocence in his expression.

The tall–very tall–youth remained still but she sensed he took in a million moving objects at once. Completely aware of everything around him.

Even her not so polite stares.

The youth turned and locked eyes with her.

Padmé blushed and looked away.

Embarrassed by her reaction she straightened and turned her attention back to the young man. He was still watching her.

There was something about the way he looked at her.

It made her feeluncomfortable.

There was gentleness in his smile.

The young woman frowned, knowing she could not continue to just stand there. Marching swiftly into the common room she glanced around hoping Master Jinn was nearby.

"He is patrolling the corridors," Anakin said plainly as he turned his gaze back to the sunny afternoon.

Padmé tensed wondering if he had read her mind with one of those Jedi mind tricks. "Oh." After a moment of silence she relaxed and walked slowly toward the couch. Eyeing the young man again she carefully sat down in the middle of the small seat. Her nervous hands folded into her lap. "I can hardly believe nine years have passed."

The apprentice turned slightly to stare at the side of the Senator's face. "When I look at you, there has been no gap in years."

"But you are no longer a child," Padmé said without glancing over at him. "Your mother must be proud."

There was a long silence.

Padmé stared at Anakin.

Quiet thoughtfulness graced his handsome features.

"I'm sorry." The urge to rise to her feet hit her. She was crossing the distance of the room without thinking about it.

"Don't be," Anakin said facing her.

Padmé stopped and stared up into his bright blue eyes. To her surprise her breath hitched. "Have you seen her since leaving–"

"No," Anakin breathed.

The Senator of Naboo wavered slightly. "Why?"

Anakin did not immediately answer.

Briefly it occurred to her that she was probably asking too personal of question for having just met the young man again. Her cheeks flushed again.

"It was not considered wise," Anakin said softly as he shifted, his eyes searching hers.

It felt like he was staring straight through her.

"Wise?" Her breathing seemed so shallow.

"The Council felt contact would disrupt my training."

"Oh." He had such bright blue eyes. She could get lost in them. The way he looked at her. His gaze caressed the soft lines of her neck. Instinctively she reached up as if to protect the tender flesh. Snapping out of her daze, she turned away. Her voice quivered even as she struggled to regain her composure. "Do you miss her?"

Anakin frowned. "All the time."

"That is so cruel."

"It is their way."

"It's not a very good way."

__________________

The Book of Quiet Lessons

Bali walked silently into the Council anteroom where he found his master standing silently off to the side. The older Jedi appeared to be in meditation so Bali quietly found his place next to Obi-Wan.

He folded his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak just like his master and waited. Taking in deep, slow breaths he relaxed finding a quiet serenity. He knew he should enjoy it while it lasted, as the moment he entered the Council chamber he would lose that bit of peace.

The circle of masters always made him nervous. Although he knew many of them outside the chamber, it was different inside.

Feeling a gentle gaze upon him, Bali looked up to meet his master's weary eyes.

"Are they sending us on another mission?" the apprentice asked softly. "I was going to go swimming with Awar tomorrow."

"I will not speculate on what the Council has summoned us for," Obi-Wan said dryly as he turned his attention to the chamber doors. "Neither should you," he stressed.

"Of course, Master." Bali frowned. "We just got back."

Obi-Wan looked down and studied the boy's questioning face. He sighed softly. The Jedi master looked down at the boy who stared up with a questioning look. "I also hope we will not have a mission. I too have been looking forward to some rest as well."

The thirteen-year-old smiled then turned his attention to the floor. Carefully he drew his boot toe along the intricate tile designs. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"I am sorry if I said something I should not have during lunch today." He knew he would not feel good until he got the words out.

Obi-Wan's staid expression softened as he studied the boy's down cast expression. "There are some things that are better left to be asked in private. And there are some things that should never be said in front of Healer Bant."

"Because she likes to give you grief."

"Yes."

Confusion glossed the youth's features.

"How will I know?"

Obi-Wan paused to consider how to answer. "If you have doubts wait until you can ask it privately."

"Yes, Master."

The door to the Council chambers opened and an older Twi'lek padawan ushered them into the chamber before quietly exiting and closing the doors behind her.

Bali shadowed his master as they walked into the Council chamber. He could feel the gentle caress of the masters as they lightly probed his shielding. Instinctively he tightened it slightly, leaving only the thinnest thread between he and his master.

He felt the flow of soft reassurance through their bond.

Without prompting he bowed before the masters but remained quiet as his own greeted the Council to silently nodding heads. His gaze swept across the passive stares of several of the masters. Finally settling on Yoda's large, sleepy eyes.

The little green master offered Bali a gentle smile before returning to the seriousness of the moment.

Mace quirked a brow before speaking. "Master Kenobi. Padawan Tiro."

Bali had long ago learned that he was not afraid of Master Windu although most of his friends were. He had gotten to know the respected and feared master outside the Council chambers and liked him a lot.

Master Windu was actually quite funny.

It took all of the padawan's self control to keep a smile from taking control of his lips as he thought about the time the respected Master helped him to–

Padawan.

Sorry, Master.

Master had not been too happy when that bottle of Lobigarian berry juice exploded all over him. He never entirely got the purple stains out of his cloak.

Mace continued oblivious to the silent conversation. "We have not had a chance to fully review the official inquiry sent by the Chancellor. Although we are aware of many facts about the assassination of the Tamboa Senator Irisi."

Adi Gallia picked up. "Little of this information is new to you as you were the first to arrive on the scene."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. Cold seriousness reflected in his eyes.

She continued. "At this moment a group of Senate security investigators are on the scene of another assassination. For the moment, the news of Senator Aleen Zucha of the mid rim world Lisult is being kept under wraps. At the behest of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine we are to send our own investigators. It seems there are somesimilarities between this and the Senator Irisi's death."

Ki-Adi Mundi spoke next, his tone even and serene. "Concerned we are that a Force user was responsible."

Mace cut in. "This assassin must be found."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan obediently answered.

Bali kept the unhappy frown in check. There goes swimming, he thought dully.

_________________

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part II

"Do not look at me like that, Padawan," Qui-Gon said sternly without even glancing at the other figure in the small apartment. He patiently turned and palmed the front door closed before bringing his full attention on the apprentice.

Obi-Wan said nothing.

After a time, the younger Jedi broke the gaze and started toward his room.

"You will not walk away," the older man said sternly causing Obi-Wan to cease his movement.

The apprentice did not turn to face Qui-Gon. "I am going to study now, Master," he said coolly.

"That should have been your concern earlier."

Obi-Wan turned quickly, the pale blue of his eyes sharp and angry. He paused, closing his eyes for a moment. Exhaling. Opening his eyes slowly, the calm having returned. His voice was soft and even, "Master–"

"Do you think I am just going to stand by while you disobey me?"

Qui-Gon folded his arms and studied the unhappy look of the young man standing across from him. Daring the padawan to challenge his authority.

Again, a long silence held its place between the two.

"You did not have to drag us through the Temple like fighting initiates."

"If you would not act like a troublesome initiate I would not have to treat you like one."

"You are not being fair."

"Master." Qui-Gon said evenly. "You are not being fair, Master," he sternly corrected.

Obi-Wan said nothing. Instead he tugged at the edge of his cloak as if impatiently waiting for the punishment to be meted out and he could go about his way.

The Jedi Master was not so swayed. His padawan's infatuations had come and gone without too much trouble but this relationship with the Keizian girl was out of control. He had been mistaken to allow it to go on as long as it did unchecked. But he had made amends and on numerous occasions broached the subject.

Only later to find the two padawans together again.

Halla Keizian hid behind a mask of humility but he knew too well that she was dangerous.

It seemed her only goal was to disrupt his padawan's training.

The boy was very protective of her.

An attachment that could not be allowed to strengthen.

"You know good and well that such interaction is forbidden."

"You did not suffer that problem when it came to Tahl."

Qui-Gon's first instinct was to slap the boy for that outrageous remark. The girl had poisoned Obi-Wan. Inspired him to speak when it was best to keep quiet.

She would be the ruin of him.

Obi-Wan just stood his ground.

This childish acting out had to be brought under control. After all, that was what it was, Obi-Wan was acting out.

He was a child after all.

Even if the young man standing before him did not look the part.

The baby fat was all but gone. There was no awkward teenager in the compactly muscular body shaped by a lifetime of training. The set blue eyes reflected a life that had already seen much. Callused hands that had taken life and given it hung lifelessly to his side. No reflection of the child he had once been in the wary stance.

Within the Temple walls, the young man was still a child, as long a he remained a padawan. Doomed to defer to the wisdom of his master.

And his master would not let him foolishly throw away his dream of being a Jedi.

Not over an infatuation no different that all the others that will march through the apprentice's life.

Someday it would be Obi-Wan's decision.

Just not today.

Cool blue eyes never shifted from the master as the young man took on a more relaxed posture. Still, Qui-Gon knew it was just a look, the apprentice was ready to spring into whatever necessary action.

"You know as well as I do, that kind of personal interaction is forbidden among padawans. It is an unneeded distraction." Qui-Gon clarified, unsure why he had felt it necessary to explain himself. He was the master, after all.

"I am not a child, I can make those decisions for myself."

"No, you cannot," Qui-Gon said sternly.

"I am old enough to die for what I believe in. to die for what the Order believes in. So why I am not old enough to decide who or when I can love?"

He could see the twenty-year-old struggling to hold onto a range of emotions. He could see the confusion and hurt in the young man's eyes. The insecurity brought violently to the surface.

"You are a padawan. It is not your place to make such decisions."

Obi-Wan huffed impatiently as he folded his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak. "But I am not a child."

"A matter of opinion."

Obi-Wan's shoulders slouched slightly.

The words had hurt but Qui-Gon also knew if he softened his resolve, it would only give the boy permission to act out again. "You will not see Padawan Keizian anymore. Not even among friends."

"Master!"

"Instead of hanging around with your friends you will spend all of your free time here, in meditation, until further notice. You have not proven yourself trustworthy when it comes to the girl." He hesitated, noting the younger man's defiant look and knew he had to take measures to crush it. "I have spoken with Master Denshau and she agrees. Padawan Keizian is being given the same lecture as we speak. Be thankful, Padawan, that we are keeping it to ourselves. Should the Council intervene the consequences of your indiscretion will not be taken lightly."

_________________

The Book of Political Crossings

The plain, but strangely elegant hall gently curved through the massive Senate building. A warm amber glow lighted the corridor from behind gold rimmed panels giving an almost mystical glow to the ornately beaded dress Senator Amidala wore.

Her serene features quietly studied the quiet corridor as she struggled not to finger the silver beads embroidered into the rich blue fabric.

The Chancellor was taking his time she noted as she glanced over at her security. Sirceé, the captain of her guard along with five of his men posted about and two Jedi who waited at a discrete distance. She paid little attention to the older of the two but her gaze fell to the tall young man. He gave her a warm smile.

Padmé quickly glanced away, her cheeks flushing red.

Not a good time to act silly, she mentally chastised herself.

The closed doors she stood close to flew open and a flourish of red draped figures poured out into the corridor. Their smooth red helmets glowed in the warm light as they took up position around her and the entrance into the corridor.

The mere sight of the sweeping red figures caused her breath to quicken as she started to withdraw from their midst.

"Senator Amidala?" Palpatine asked with a hint of surprise in his cultured voice. The elegantly dressed older man glided from the shadows. "I am surprised to say the least."

"I realize that your time is precious," Padmé said quickly recovering her composure. She straightened slightly to great the Chancellor formally.

"I have all the time for you, my lady. Had I known I would not have kept you waiting out in the hall."

"This came about rather quickly," Padmé said falling into step next to Palpatine. "As you know I have continued to try to keep talks open with the Aveniar in Irisi's absence."

"Yes and a difficult task you have taken on."

"Talks must resume or we will be in armed conflict within weeks."

"Yes." Palpatine suddenly stopped, his gaze swept past the young woman to the two Jedi that quietly followed. "There has been a new complication. Word has just come in the Lisult senator has been murdered."

Padmé's eyes flashed.

"Word travels quickly," the Chancellor lowered his voice. "They were trying to keep it under wraps. Needless to say rumor and innuendo are quickly spiraling out of control." He studied Padmé's worried but questioning eyes. "The Jedi are already unwelcome among the secessionist worlds, I fear their diplomatic skills are all but useless to us now."

Padmé smiled briefly catching the surprise in the older man's eyes. "That is why Senator Organa of Alderaan has already left with a diplomatic convoy to Selis Prime. We must attempt to restart the negotiations."

"What?" For an instant red flushed across the Chancellor's face before fading back into his natural pallor. "You are taking too great a risk."

"The Aveniar representatives have already agreed to meet with the diplomatic convoy."

Palpatine just stood there silently for a long time. Then a big smile lit his face. "But how?"

"They agreed on the basis that no Jedi were a part of the convoy. In fact they were quite willing to have their grievances with the Republic brought forth."

Again, the Chancellor stood silent mentally surveying the situation.

For a moment, Padmé thought she saw a shadow cross the politician's usually kindly features.

"I must bow to you, Senator. You have pulled off a virtual coup."

Humbly Padmé replied, "The coup, if there is one, will all be the work of Senator Organa."

"Chancellor!"

The cry elicited a wince as Palpatine turned to see Jira barreling through the corridor with an arm full of stuff. "Yes, Miss Thelo?" The calmness was barely masked.

"I think you should see this," she said shoving a data pad toward him.

The look of irritation bled away as Palpatine silently reviewed the information. His gaze immediately met the young Senator's. "You will have to forgive me, Senator, but duty calls."

"Of course, Chancellor."

With little preamble Palpatine turned curtly and stormed off down the hall with his guard and Jira chasing clumsily after him.

Padmé just stood there for a moment before turning a worried look to the weary eyes of the gray haired Jedi. "Master Jinn?"

"Yes, Senator?" Qui-Gon asked calmly as he stepped forward.

Anakin looked dismayed but remained where he was.

"Did the Chancellor seemunsettled by my announcement?"

The elder Jedi was silent as he fell into step next to the young woman. He smiled gently, "He seemed surprised, I believe."

Padmé nodded as she quickly walked through the corridor. She had been proud of the achievement but the Chancellor's reaction had suddenly created worry.

_______________________

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"sketchy reports are coming in now. Senator Aleen Zucha of Lisult has been murdered. Senate security personnel have cordoned off a sector in one of the Coruscant's lower levels. The body was found in a private club.

"Senator Yarlsbac of the Adamere Federation has stated that the Republic has lost a great leader and his memory should not be tarnished by rumor and innuendo."

________________________

The Book of Girlish Conversations

Something had coiled itself tight around Padmé's thoughts as she quietly returned to her office. Occasionally she would glance back at the two Jedi that followed at a distance.

The younger seemed never to allow his gaze to stray from her. The Naboo Senator struggled to maintain her composure. She did not want to be seen staring at the boy. Nor did she want to encourage him.

She had a reputation to maintain after all.

And more important things to worry about.

Concern that she made a grave mistake loomed heavily on her mind. Palpatine had not greeted the news as she imagined he would. Maybe she had caught him at a bad time.

He did seem quite distracted and whatever news Miss Thelo had brought only upset the Chancellor more.

Padmé slowed the moment she realized she had entered the corridor leading to her private apartments. For a moment she just stopped and stared at the guarded door. She had been so distracted by Palpatine's reaction that she had not paid attention to where she was going. Her thoughts remained with Bail Organa and the diplomatic envoy.

The Aveniar had greeted the idea of opening talks.

Thus far the Senate had been too divided to even agree to do that. Too muddled down in the madness of politics and money to focus on the Republic's immolation.

War would be too hard on the foundering government and chaos would ensue. The only hope to hold the Republic together was in negotiated peace until a better solution could manifest itself.

Sighing loudly, Padmé approached her private door just as the guard palmed it open. With a little luck, Bail would have left her a message. Just a little note to let her know everything was all right. After all, he had promised to keep her informed of every development.

A shrill, terrified cry made the young woman jump. Before she realized what was happening, she had been shoved behind the protective brown of the Jedi's cloaks. The warm hum of lightsabers and the clack of blasters deafened her as Anakin quickly pushed her into the safety of her apartment. "What is–"

Just beyond the young man's shoulder, Padmé saw a tangle of blond hair. She could feel Anakin relax slightly and without hesitation, Padmé pushed past him until she saw the terrified eyes of Jira staring up from where she cowered on the warm gray carpet. Data pads and flimsies lay scattered where the often-annoying assistant had fallen.

"Put your weapons away!" Padmé demanded as she pushed past her protection to get to the quivering mass on the floor. "Miss Thelo?"

"I am so sorry," Jira rattled as she quickly tried to gather her dropped belongings.

"It is all right," Padmé said as she knelt to help her.

"I can get it," Jira whispered with a hint of embarrassment. "You do not–"

"Yes, I do," Padmé interrupted. "My security is a little tense." She handed off a stack of flimsies back to the assistant.

Jira stood up still juggling her work. "The Chancellor sent me to deliver an apology," she stuttered.

"He did not need to do that."

She shuffled her stuff to one arm and then roughly pushed back her long blond hair as if it were annoying her. "He felt that he was rather abrupt but he commended you. The Chancellor has a lot on his mind right now."

"As I understand," Padmé said kindly as she guided the still trembling woman past the security and the Jedi into a private area of her suite.

The blond twisted slightly, looking back at the two Jedi in the doorway and seemed rather surprised that they did not follow.

Immediately Sirceé tried to follow but Padmé waved her back with a reassuring look.

"It is all right," she said calmly as she guided Jira to a chair.

"Senator, you do not have to–"

"Of course I do. A face full of blaster rifles on top of the recent attack are enough to frazzle anyone's nerves." The Senator found the chair across from Jira and carefully sat down, waiting until the blond had a chance to calm herself further.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Jira asked almost suspiciously.

Padmé held her tongue momentarily until she found the words she like the best. "Because I was rather brusque with you the other day. You were only trying to be nice and I was not."

"That is what you are supposed to be," Jira said as her composure and bubbly personality started to return. "You are a senator and I am an assistant who only has her job because of a very small favor the Chancellor owes my father." The woman seemed to smile sadly. Her eyes flashed at the sight of the two Jedi in the next room speaking softly. "Don't you worry?" she whispered.

"About what?"

Jira frowned. "All the assassinations? What if it is the Jedi that are killing all these Senators?"

"The Jedi would not," Padmé replied firmly.

"But how are you so certain?" Fear reflected in her eyes as she pulled her gaze from the two men back to the Senator. "What if they are just pretending to protect you?"

Padmé laughed lightly. She twisted ever so slightly to see the two Jedi before turning her gaze back to her fellow Naboo. "Do you know who those two men are? That is Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice Anakin Skywalker."

Jira's face lit up as she turned to look at them again. "The heroes of Naboo?"

The Senator nodded. "At the time Anakin helped us when we landed on Tatooine. Master Jinn's apprentice then was Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The assistant made a face that Padmé could not quite decipher.

"I have met him," Jira replied, "several times. He is never very friendly."

"I believe he is quite reserved," Padmé said diplomatically.

"Oh." After a moment it seemed the words had connected with the woman as she pushed her hair back again. "I hope to bump into him again." She grinned wickedly. Her gaze then fell to the bright pink shoes she was wearing. "A broken heel would help." Jira broke up into a soft giggle. "Maybe he won't be so reserved around me next time."

Padmé put her hand over her mouth to stifle her own girlish laugh. "I don't think he knows how to be anything other than reserved."

"He just doesn't know how to enjoy himself. I bet I could loosen him up real quick."

The young senator just blushed.

For a moment, Jira just studied the other woman curiously. Then she twisted in her seat again to look at the two Jedi in the distance. Then leaned a little closer to Padmé to whisper, "Haven't you ever considered what a Jedi could do? You know? I bet they have great stamina."

Padmé's eyes went wide and her face was a bright shade of red. "I neverI didn't think–"

"Tell me you are not a red blooded Naboo woman?"

A giggle rippled between the two.

"I didn't think theywell you know," Padmé whispered so low that Jira had to lean in to make out the words.

"Come on," the blond prodded as she jutted her chin toward Anakin. "Do you believe that handsome creature is going to die a virgin?" Her face lit up the moment Padmé looked away in embarrassment. "Oh, you like him."

"Shhh," Padmé giggled but immediately straightened fighting to maintain the image of a serious Republic Senator. "I am hunted by potential suitors of more wealth and holdings than I can possibly imagine." Her regal expression softened when her gaze fell to Anakin.

As if aware of her thoughts, the young man turned and gave her a gentle smile.

"Here I am falling in love with a poor monk." She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, it was intentionally blassee. "Besides, I do not believe they are allowed to love."

"What a horrible life," Jira said as she quickly sobered.

"It is worse," Padmé whispered. "He has not seen his mother since he was nine because the Jedi Order thought it would distract him from his training."

"I would die if I was kept away from my mother."

"She is still in slavery on Tatooine."

Jira's lower lip quivered. "They left her like that?"

Padmé seemed sad as her gaze returned to the blond haired Jedi. "I tried once to buy her out of slavery but the Twi'lek that owns her now posted such a high price on her that it was well over my family's ability to cover it."

"My family can afford her freedom," Jira said flatly.

"I cannot ask that of you."

"My family are humanitarians. You know that. To save the mother of the hero of Naboo? They would jump at that. Let me contact my family. We can bring her here–"

"What of the Jedi?" Padmé quickly inquired.

"They don't have to know. We do it and surprise him."