Hi!  Thanks for the FB, Cerasi5 and ~Becky~ (BTW – if you didn't do well on your finals you can have your teachers contact me and I will personally take all the blame! @_@  I hope you did well, though!).  Here's the next part!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Seven: A Man of Many Names ~

Obi-Wan:

Sighing, I forced myself to think about something else. Perhaps my worry for my mater was making me jumpy and putting me on edge. I needed to get a grip on myself and remain calm. I couldn't start seeing dark shadows in every corner. I had to work with what I had, not some vague, half nameless feeling that couldn't be placed.

Impatiently, I played with the cuffs of my robes and shot a sideways glace at Qui-Gon. As always, he was the personification of grace and patience. Leaning back comfortably in his seat, he somehow managed to look attentive and relaxed at the same time. He, of course, was not bothered by the delay. Normally, I would not have been either, but I wanted to get up to our rooms so that we could call a doctor and have him examined. I needed to know what was wrong with him, this uncertainty only doubled my concern.

Finally, the flustered man who had been arguing with the now clearly distraught receptionist, stormed out of the hotel in a flurry of muttered curses and exasperation. The door slammed shut behind him and the receptionist, a young man in his twenties, shook his head before turning to us.

"My deepest apologies for keeping you waiting," he said as pleasantly as he could manage after the trying episode, "but my good friend Revelc Cainam does not seem to understand that being the head of security does not give him the authority to turn this hotel into a maximum security prison! Just yesterday he upgraded the security devices in the master suite and now he wants to install listening devices there as well. It's as if he doesn't understand that the Directors' guests need to feel welcome here and not concerned about can't be treated like criminals!"

Qui-Gon and I stood and walked over to the counter behind which the young man was standing. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience he caused you," my Master answered quite pleasantly with a charming smile, "I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and this is my Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi," he gestured towards me and I bowed, "we have reservations."

The young man nodded and gave a forced smile, obviously still irritated at 'Revelc Cainam', and said, "Hold on a moment and I will check in the computer system."

"Of course," Qui-Gon bowed his head courteously.

The receptionist began keying information into the computer console built into his side of the counter and after a few moments looked up at us with a worried smile. "Your names are in our system, but I'm afraid there has been a mistake. The main suit, which was reserved for you, was accidentally given to an ambassador that just arrived from a neighboring planet. However, there are many other rooms we can give you that, although not quite as luxurious, will surely meet your needs."

"We will be quite comfortable in any suite that you have available," I assured the young man, smiling. He could put us in the cellar for all I cared. I was more concerned with getting a doctor to examine Qui-Gon.

"Good, then if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your accommodations."

~~~~~~~~~~

"We found the timer in Revelc Cainam's rooms," a voice danced over a marred jumble of pictures and sounds that blanketed my mind. Flashes of people and places flickered before me so quickly that I could not take in or identify them, but over it all was that same voice, repeating that same sentence over and over again until the words rang in my ears like the persistent tolling of a bell.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice seemed distant and I felt a heavy hand ruffling my hair, drawing me forward from the fragmented images of my dreams. Slowly, I waded through the semi-conscious world of sleep, until his voice was a loud rumble in my ears.

Groggily, I opened my eyes and raised my head, memory rushing through me in an instant. The receptionist had called a doctor for us, who, upon arriving, said he had to perform some tests and drew so much blood from Qui-Gon, that my Master had to lay down to prevent himself from getting dizzy.

The doctor had worked for nearly two hours in the adjoining room and, as time ticked by, I had found myself growing increasingly nervous and impatient. Was or wasn't Qui-Gon going to be all right, and what was wrong with him? After nearly driving my Master insane with my constant pacing, he had beckoned me to him. Taking a seat on the side of the bed, where he was still resting, I had begun apologizing when…a persistent Force touch against my mind had overwhelmed my thoughts and rapidly drawn me into sleep.

Qui-Gon had used a Force-suggestion on me! "So, you finally got tired of your pesky Padawan?" I teased accusingly, "and seeing the perfect opportunity to gain some much needed freedom, you put me to sleep?"

"Obi-Wan," he answered, equally as joking, "If I had wanted to be free from you, I would have left you on Sendrus III, with that young woman Adelya, whose large…" Qui-Gon shot me a knowing look and upon seeing my furious blush, continued, "…intellect held you quite enamored. I'm sure that you would have hardly noted my departure…in fact, by now, I'm certain that you would be expecting a child."

My flush deepened, making my cheeks feel like they were on fire, and I gasped, "Master!"

Qui-Gon laughed merrily, "Did you think I hadn't noticed the way you were looking at her?"

I couldn't stop myself from smiling, "I was just admiring her…"

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow at me, "Her what, Obi-Wan?"

If possible, I felt my face grow even hotter, "Her obvious joy. Didn't you notice how happy she always was?" I managed to stammer out. Of course he had interrupted me at the worst possible moment to make it seem like I was going to say something completely different!

Shaking his head, he reproached me with false sternness, "Of course I noticed her joyous nature, but I'm quite certain that you noticed something completely different about her."

"She was a very nice girl!" I exclaimed defensively.

A grin quickly spread over my Master's face, "Indeed she was. I found it very amusing that my quiet, studious, respectful Padawan was suddenly transformed into a bumbling klutz by her…'obvious joy'. I don't think I ever saw you trip over nothing more times than I did when you were around her."

"Master…" I protested again, covering my face with my hands to hide my quite apparent mortification and growing laughter.

Suddenly, I found myself drawn forward from where I was sitting and enveloped in a tight embrace. Threading his fingers in my hair, he pressed my face against his chest and held me against him with protective, unwavering strength.

Surprised, I fumbled to halfway return the hug while struggling to breathe against the cloth of his tunic. "Obi-Wan," I heard him whisper into my ear, "You bring such light to my life."

Stifling any comment I might have made about not choking one's apprentice, I managed to draw back just enough to easily breathe while still remaining nestled against him. The love I heard in those words was so powerful that it formed a warm bubble of aching light in my heart and made my throat constrict and pulse with a joy that nearly stole my breath.

Clenching my fists into his tunic, I settled contentedly against him. Next to his words, any I could offer seemed pathetically inadequate so I remained silent, hoping he knew how much I truly cared for him.

After a few moments of shared silence, the loud, pointed sound of someone clearing his throat caused me to quickly retreat from his arms, smiling shyly as I turned to see Doctor Marcof gazing at us from the doorway between rooms.

"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi," he addressed, coming to stand on the other side of my Master's bed. The doctor was quite young, perhaps thirty, and his brown hair, highlighted by streaks of dirty blond, made a sharp contrast to his bright blue eyes. The joy he felt at performing his chosen profession was evident in both his friendly manner, and the sparkle in his eyes. "I have news for you," he smiled.

The tests. My joy and contentedness quickly fled my body, giving way to my tension and worry. What would he tell us? Would I be ready to hear it if something was seriously wrong with my Master? The unidentifiable force within him had grown and gone untreated for so many days. We had been delayed by so many things. By the crash, the Tarcalians, being held in that Ice Box, and then traveling to the city. What would that mean for Qui-Gon?

I studied the man closely. His warm voice hadn't betrayed the serious tone of someone who was about to deliver a bad report. Nor did his face seem troubled. Perhaps there was nothing seriously wrong with Qui-Gon? Before letting myself get too hopeful, I took my Master's hand and clasped it tightly between mine.

"Yes, Doctor," Qui-Gon acknowledged, sending me a reassuring smile, "Please tell us what you found."

"Forgive me for taking so long," he began, "but there were some strange chemical imbalances in your blood and it took me quite some time to track down their cause. After performing several tests, and calling to confer with my colleagues, I believe you have contracted a very rare disease known as Scalaris."

Qui-Gon and I shared an equally unenlightened glance. Neither of us had ever heard of it.

Doctor Marcof chuckled, "No, I'm not surprised that you don't know what it is. It is usually only seen among Versuvians, and seldom infects humans. In a Versuvian, it causes frequent attacks of relatively harsh pain, but, similar to the human cold, passes within a few weeks. However, in humans, the fits of pain are much more serious – usually overwhelming – and generally cause the infected person to very quickly lose consciousness and then slip into a fatal coma."

I closed my eyes. It was just as I had feared, every night as I had held him. Each fit brought extreme danger of my Master losing consciousness and not waking up ever again. We were fortunate to have made it to the city.

The ripples of comfort I felt through our bond only shamed me. Qui-Gon was the one who was ill and here he was, reassuring me. I was more afraid than he was! Force, why did I have so much trouble controlling my fear? Squeezing his hand, I returned the emotions he sent me.

"However," he continued, "either because you're a Jedi or you have some strange resistance to this disease, you have somehow miraculously pulled through several of these attacks. Because of this, I am certain that with proper treatment, you will make a full recovery."

Relief filled me suddenly and absolutely. Like a bright light, it shone through every corner and crevice of my heart and soul. A tremendous weight had been lifted from my being and I felt light and giddy. Joy bubbled through me in the form of laughter that spilled from my lips to fill the otherwise silent room. I felt more happy than I could remember feeling in my entire life – happier than perhaps I had a right to be – and much happier, I was sure, than Qui-Gon himself was.

A pulse of gratitude and mirth through our bond brought me back from my blinding happiness. Remembering where I was, and who I was with, I reeled my joy back in, letting it silently fill me instead of outwardly showing it to the whole universe. Silencing my laughter, I felt my cheeks redden and had to force myself to meet first my Master's sparking gaze, and then the Doctor's. Qui-Gon was grinning broadly, purely because of my reaction and not his own relief, and the young man was smiling, understanding evident in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, wanting to crawl into a hole and burry myself.

"Don't be," Qui-Gon immediately assured me, "there are many times that I've felt like doing the same thing."

I scoffed. That was something I simply could not imagine.

"I speak the truth," he assured, playfully defensive, "You obviously enjoy scaring me half to death by being nearly fatally wounded, slipping into comas, and disappearing on strange new worlds, and my only reward for making it through your stunts is the joy I feel when I'm told you'll be okay."

He was joking, but there was a note of seriousness behind it. As his apprentice, I had spent more time in the Healers' Ward than any other Jedi to ever walk the halls of the Temple. I knew Qui-Gon worried for me every time that I wasn't feeling well, or was gravely ill, but for the first time I understood what he went through. This was the first time that something had ever seriously been wrong with him, and now, having felt so terrible at seeing him in pain, I realized how hard it was for him to watch me suffer.

Turning my attention back to the Doctor, I smiled apologetically, "Please continue."

Doctor Marcof nodded, "Don't worry about it. My brother was once very close to a young boy who lived next door to us. Eventually, the trials of time and worry drew them apart, and he's always regretted not staying in touch with him. You two have something very special – don't take it for granted."

"We won't," Qui-Gon assured him, giving me a crooked half-smile.

"Anyway," the Doctor was the first to break the silence that descended across the room, "I don't want to take any chances so I think that we should start treatment now. Administering a Dorasyne drip for the next three hours should do it. After that, I'll prescribe some follow-up medication for you to take twice a day – at breakfast and dinner – to make sure that the disease doesn't spring back."

"Sounds good," I said, smiling.

"Yes," the Doctor said with some obvious hesitation, "but there is a slight problem. The drug Dorasyne is extremely powerful and although I doubt there is any risk of addiction, it does 'cause exceedingly painful convulsions in the patient. Probably as agonizing, if not more so, than the attacks you've been suffering for the past few days, and unfortunately, I won't be able to give you a painkiller because it would counteract the Dorasyne."

More painful? How was that possible? The 'headaches' – although it was an insult to call them that – were so intense as to be unimaginable. How could this be worse? I didn't even want to envision what that meant – what it would mean for Qui-Gon.

Shaking my head, I determined to swallow my own ridiculous emotions, which seemed to be perkily cropping up in hordes lately, and instead be strong for my Master. Force only knew how he'd make it through this.

Don't worry, Qui-Gon, I whispered, sending him ample amounts of reassurance and companionship – wanting him to feel, not just know, that I was here for him, I won't leave your side.

Qui-Gon didn't answer, and instead I felt a stab of sadness across our bond. "Doctor, may I have a moment to speak with my Padawan in private, please?"

"Of course," the young doctor bowed and retreated back into the adjoining room.

I was confused at my Master's request. Was something wrong? Did he not wish me to stay with him during the administration of the drug? Was he unhappy with my efforts to help and comfort him? I knew they were pathetic considering how much pain he had been in, but I had done my best.

"No, Obi-Wan," my Master's voice was soothing, "You have helped me more than you can possibly know. I am extremely grateful for your concern and caring. Knowing that you were with me, and hearing your words, did make the pain easier to deal with."

Warm waves of appreciation flowed through my mind and I smiled, "I'm glad that I could…help…and," tentatively now, I continued, "I'll help you through the treatment, too."

His sad smile only added to my confusion. "Obi-Wan, you've lost track of the time."

I frowned, not understanding what that had to do with anything. "Master?"

"Our saboteur delayed us nearly four days, and if we hadn't left ahead of schedule, we would have missed the preliminary meeting, which starts in a little less than twenty five minutes," he explained.

Surely the Directors would understand that we needed some time, considering the fact that our ship had been sabotaged and my Master was ill? "Don't worry, Master, I'll speak with them and have the meeting delayed."

Qui-Gon shook his head, "No, Obi-Wan," his tone was regretful; "You know how delicate the situation here is, Padawan. We cannot delay this first meeting; it is important that we establish good relations with the Directors to more quickly help them compromise and prevent a war."

He wasn't thinking of postponing his treatment to go to the meeting…was he? "You're in no shape to go!" I protested, much more vehemently than I had intended, "You can't possibly…"

I forced myself to fall silent at Qui-Gon's raised hand, bowing my head slightly, embarrassed at my overreaction. "No, I don't intend to go. I intend for you to go, while the Doctor begins my treatment."

That meant that I would have to leave him during the treatment though. I didn't want to do that – not when my presence would help him. He was my friend, I couldn't abandon him when he needed me.

Before I could protest, he continued, "This first meeting may seem like a formality, but you know that it is where we access the emotions of the people we will be working with, to gain some idea of how to proceed and how easy or difficult the negotiations will be. Delaying it might prove harmless, or it might anger the Directors. That's simply something we can't risk."

I swallowed; he did have a point. "But…I want to be here for you…"

He squeezed my shoulder, "I realize that, Obi-Wan, and I thank you. However, the mission always comes first. I will sorely miss your presence here, but remember what I told you on Prescot Prime when I found out that you were sick? I said that I always wanted to know if you weren't feeling well, but that there would be times, because of the mission, that I wouldn't be able to take care of you."

Dejectedly, I let my gaze fall to the floor. His point was well taken, our duty as Jedi always came first. However, we also had another duty. A duty to ourselves and to each other. It just didn't feel right that I should leave him, knowing how much pain he'd be in, "It doesn't feel right," I voiced my thought softly, almost speaking to myself.

Qui-Gon ran his fingers down my braid, twining the end around his fingers, "I know it doesn't, Obi-Wan. And every time I've had to leave you behind because you were sick or injured and I had to tend to the mission, it didn't feel right to me either. But I did it, because there was more at stake than just one life." Qui-Gon's voice reflected the same resigned sadness I felt in my own heart.

With a gentle tug of my braid, he called Doctor Marcof back into the room.

"Everything I need has been brought from the hospital," he informed us upon entering, "and we can begin as soon as you're ready. However, there is one thing I would like to tell you first." His somber tone made me look into his eyes, which I found had dulled considerably.

He hadn't found something else, had he? "What is it?" I questioned immediately.

A reassuring smile was flashed my direction, "Do not worry – he will be fine. It's just that…well, as I said, Scalaris is a very rare disease, even more so among humans. The few who have been infected had spent great amounts of time on the Versuvian homeworld…" he let his words dwindle, looking expectantly from Qui-Gon to myself.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Doctor," I spoke, "but neither of us has been there recently, and we haven't spent any time near a Versuvian either." Versuvia was a planet on the outer rim which had very little contact with outsiders. I had never been there at all, and to my knowledge, Qui-Gon hadn't either.

Doctor Marcof sighed, "That is what I thought."

Qui-Gon spoke the question before I could, "Is there any other way I could have become infected?"

He sighed again, this time louder and he seemed obviously a little uncertain of how to say what he wanted to say. "Yes, there is. Someone could have…infected you on purpose. Usually it takes about at least two days for symptoms to appear after infection. According to what you told me, and when the first pain attack occurred, I think you were infected about four days ago."

Qui-Gon and I shared a disturbed look. That meant he had been infected during our flight to his planet. Even without knowing what was wrong with him, we both thought it had natural causes, but in reality, our saboteur had struck again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Clasping Qui-Gon's hand tightly, I watched as the doctor began hooking him up to a machine that would regulate and pump the drug into his system. The Complex of Administration was located across the street from the hotel and I was taking advantage of that by staying as long as I possibly could. Of course I didn't want to leave Qui-Gon's side, but truth be told, I was a little nervous.

Qui-Gon had recently begun letting me take a larger role in our negotiations, and once, when they were not extremely serious, he had let me conduct them all by myself. He had, of course, been there, and had I made a terrible mistake, he would have taken over. I hadn't done as well as I would have liked, but I satisfied both parties and Qui-Gon had praised my performance.

This was different though. If the negotiations weren't a success, there could be a civil war and lives would be lost. Qui-Gon wouldn't be there at all, and despite my protests, was planning to shield himself from me, so that he wouldn't distract me at all from the meeting. That meant I would be on my own – completely. Not only that, but someone was after our lives. What if he interfered with the mission? What if he was planning something that would endanger its success? How would I handle that situation?

Sighing, I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head. I was nervous and apprehensive. My concern was leading me to brood about things I couldn't do anything about. I would deal with each situation as it came. I could do nothing more. Worrying about every possible thing that could go wrong would only put me more on edge and would hinder my actions. I had been asking my Master to send me on my first, short-term solo mission – in a sense, it was just coming sooner than I expected. I was ready for this; I just had to stay calm, like Qui-Gon.

"Remember," my Master cut into my thoughts, "the purpose of the preliminary meeting. Carefully observe both of the Directors. The way they speak, move, sit, or do anything, is a clue as to what they're feeling."

I smiled a little placantingly, "I know, Master, thank you."

"It is very important that you not take sides, or even appear to. Your job, as a Jedi, is to remain completely neutral and work towards something that will satisfy everyone. Your main goal is the preservation of peace," he advised after a short period of silence.

Mutely, I wondered if Qui-Gon thought I was ready for this. The things he was telling me I had already known before becoming a Padawan. "Of course, Master. I did take Yoda's introductory course to negotiations."

"And," he exclaimed almost excitedly, obviously thinking of something new, "it's essential that you listen to what they each have to say and not sound accusatory when inquiring how the situation reached this point. It's important to know why they're at the brink of war, but don't make it sound like it was their fault."

Force, I was nervous enough as it was. I knew he meant well, but he was only making it worse. "I will remember your lessons, Master," I assured him.

"Whatever you do, don't…" he nearly cut me off with this newest piece of advice and I couldn't stop myself from interrupting before he could finish.

"Master," I drew his attention, "…Qui-Gon, I know this isn't what either of us would have chosen, and I am nervous and a little scared, but I will do the best that I can." With a half smile, I gripped his other hand so that I was holding them both, "I'm eighteen, and I know that I have a lot to learn. I also know that I've learned from the best, and with your teachings and example to follow, I'll be able to do this."

Qui-Gon lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, and a wistful expression filled his cobalt blue eyes. It was an endless gaze that held sadness mixed with joy, and pride mixed with acceptance. "It seems only yesterday," he spoke with a touch of regret and reminiscence, "that you were thirteen, eager to prove yourself to me, desperate to impress me. Sometimes I forget how far you've come." He released one of my hands and touched my chin, "Just listen to the Force at all times, open yourself completely to it and you'll do fine."

Smiling shyly, I ducked my head to hide my flush. "Thank you, Master." I knew what he was referring to, and his gentle rebuke that I didn't entirely trust the Force wrung in my mind. Even if it had hurt to hear him say that, I would take his words to heart and would make him proud by trying my very best to start changing how I second guessed my instincts and the Force.

Qui-Gon's thumb brushed across my cheek with such tenderness, such love, that it made my heart ache. Every time I was confronted with his feelings, I was humbled. How could I have said all those horrible things to him when he asked me to go on vacation with him? How could I have lied, just for the perverse satisfaction of hurting him? More importantly, since there was nothing I could do to change what I had said, why did I find it so difficult to apologize?

I sighed. I knew why. It was because I had tried to hurt him. There were times, such as on Melida/Daan, when I had hurt him unintentionally and always, no matter what the circumstances, I regretted it. This was different though. I had hurt him on purpose. I had no idea how to apologize for that. Perhaps a simple, 'I'm sorry', would do – as long as it was heartfelt – but I honestly didn't even know how to approach the subject to begin with.

Still, I had to try…

"Padawan," he spoke very quietly, "sometimes a burden shared does not feel quite so heavy. Tell me what troubles you, perhaps I can help."

A flash of anxiety stole its way into my heart. This was it. My chance. He did not know what troubled me, but he knew that something was on my mind and had given me the opening to expand on. All I had to do was say something like, 'Remember when you asked me to go on vacation and I said those horrible things to you. I didn't mean them. I'm sorry,' and the guilt would be gone. Qui-Gon would forgive me, I would forgive myself, and everything would be all right.

"I…" I felt so nervous. My chest hurt and I had to stop myself from shaking. It figured, I had faced innumerable dangers and come out alive, and now I was conquered by my own heart. There was no reason to be afraid, Qui-Gon would accept my apology, I had no doubt of that… My words still seemed so inadequate though.

Steeling myself, I started again, "I want to…" but my voice quickly fell to silence and I closed my eyes in shame at my inability to simply say I was sorry.

A resigned sigh greeted my ears, "When you are ready to talk, I will be here."

Swallowing, I nodded. "Yes, I know. Thank you."

Silent minutes ticked by, in which I forced myself to yet again push my guilt into the back of my mind. There would be time for apologies later. I had a mission to see to and I had to be ready.

Finally, he nodded his head towards the timepiece that hung at the foot of the bed, "It's time for you to go."

I tightened my grip on his hand, "I'll come back as soon as I can," I hated the thought of leaving him to face this pain alone.

His eyes twinkled, "I know," he let go of my other hand and gave me gentle push, "Go on, you musn't keep the Directors waiting."

Regretfully, I stood and walked towards the door.

"Obi-Wan," I turned upon hearing him speak my name, "I believe in you."

~~~~~~~~~

As I crossed the street and approached the Complex of Administration's main entrance, I tried to apply all the powers of observation Qui-Gon had instilled in me. The mood of the general population could be a great indicator as to the true severity of the situation. Therefore, I paid close attention to the people walking the streets, trying to gain a sense of this city's atmosphere. However, aside from the usual rushed feeling of people trying to get where they were going, everything seemed rather relaxed.

I sighed. No doubt Qui-Gon would have picked up an underlying unease. If only I had his prowess with the Force. The thing that made him such a great negotiator was that he could so easily sense people's emotions and see a way to reason with them. If I was half as connected to the Force as he was, I would consider myself extremely talented. As it was, half the time I felt as if I was slowing him down.

"Name?" a scratchy, brusque voice asked.

Shaking myself from my pit of self pity, I snapped my gaze upward.

I had reached the main entrance and was standing before a middle aged man who was obviously a security guard. The man's face was sharp and hard – unwrinkled by time's passing – and he radiated restrained strength and…powerful emotions that were hidden from me but nonetheless made me feel…nervous. Deep brown eyes, peering at me through tousled locks of ebony hair, bored through me and were unreadably cold.

"What?" I asked rather stupidly, caught off guard by his chilling presence.

Annoyance flashed in his eyes, "This is the Complex of Administration and I cannot let you in unless your name is on this list," he spoke in an extremely condescending voice, gesturing vaguely with his hand, which held a computer pad, "and, I can't see if your name is on this list if you don't tell me what it is."

I controlled the surge of irritation that threatened to spill out into my words, and answered, quite calmly, "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi." Qui-Gon wouldn't have let something like that bother him, but I didn't have his control. I probably never would.

His eyes scrolled down the pad, "Ah, yes, here you are," he absentmindedly thrust a metallic wristband at me, "A 'Qui-Gon Jinn' is supposed to be accompanying you. Will he be arriving soon?"

Familiarity. His voice ringed with it. Who was he? Why did I feel like I had spoken with him before? He didn't look familiar, he just sounded it. From where though? A previous mission? That seemed unlikely. Perhaps from earlier today, even. Maybe from the hotel? Yes! That was it! He had been arguing with the receptionist when we arrived. What had the man said his name was? 'Revelc Citanul'?

With most of my worry for Qui-Gon having been lifted from my shoulders, I found myself thinking about things that I had before mostly let slip my mind. Making connections that I should have made earlier. He was Revelc Citanul…yes, but there was something else. He seemed familiar from somewhere else. I had heard his voice before then. On the shuttle. Yes. This was the same man who had promised to send out a rescue team and then hadn't. This was T'Sixe Tnodi…or at least that was the name he had given me.

Not only that, but I had heard him after that… Force, in the Icebox, when Qui-Gon and I had listened to the conversation between the Tarcalian and the saboteur. This was him. His voice held that same strange accent, that same hatred, this time hidden undertones of practice and control. This was the saboteur…the one who wanted us dead, the one who had infected Qui-Gon with that disease, the one who hated us, the one who had the Force only knew what planned for us.

A surge of surprise flooded through me and my chest grew tight. I hadn't expected to come face to face with him so quickly. Of course, just because I was taken aback didn't mean that I was about to complain. This was wonderful; I could capture him right now and be done with it! Then all I would have to worry about was the negotiations and…

No. A sinking feeling of disappointment filled me. No, I couldn't take any action against him now. It would simply be too dangerous. I had no doubt that I could subdue him – that wouldn't be too difficult – but if I did, there could be disastrous consequences to the mission.

The Marynes and the Sarocks, the two tribes of people on this planet, were of the same species, but were very distinctive from each other. The Marynes were much darker in skin tone than the Sarocks, and that made them easy to tell apart. Revelc Citanul's skin was much too pale to be that of a Maryne.

Normally, that wouldn't have mattered, but the situation on this planet made it matter. The Marynes and the Sarocks had been at war for years before finally reaching peace. Two Directors were in control of the government, one from each tribe. Governor Macormick was a Maryne, and Governor Natzo was a Seltec.

I hadn't expected for the saboteur, the man with a personal vendetta of hatred against us, to be working in the Complex of Administration. That complicated things. I had no proof – just my own assurances that I recognized his voice from three different places – and it wouldn't look good for the unbiased Jedi negotiator to attack the Sarock head of security and then not be able to prove his accusations. The Sarock Director might get suspicious that I was prejudiced against him and that would jeopardize the mission.

The negotiations were my first priority. I could do nothing that might make the situation here worse than it already was, I could do nothing that might lead the Directors more quickly down the path towards civil war. There was a possibility that I could convince both Directors that Revelc Cainam was trying to kill Qui-Gon and myself, but there was also a possibility that I couldn't. If I couldn't, it would only make a tense situation even more fragile. Would only make the negotiations more difficult because I might have to deal with a Director that didn't trust me from the very beginning. I couldn't risk that, even with something as important as this.

Helplessness welled up within me. He was right in front of me and yet I couldn't act now. I couldn't move to capture him. I would have to leave him be until I could speak with the Directors and gain their confidence. I would have to hope that I wasn't letting my last chance to safely capture this man before he could do more harm, slip through my fingers. I would have to hope that this didn't give him the chance to escape.

My helplessness was quickly accompanied by boiling frustration. Force! He was right here and I would have to simply walk away. I would have to leave him, wondering if the next step in his plan would further endanger Qui-Gon's – or my own – life. Wondering if one of us wouldn't survive whatever he was going to throw at us next. My hands were tied, and I hated it. Hated the feeling of not being able to do anything, hated that I would have to wait for another 'opportunity to present itself'.

Struggling to control this surge of emotion, I forced myself to remain calm and release my frustration into the Force. I had the negotiations to deal with, and I had to act very carefully right now. I couldn't let on that I knew who he was. That would scare him into running as soon as I met with the Directors, and then I would have little to no change of capturing him easily. I couldn't make him suspicious; I couldn't let him know that I was on to him. No, I had to act normally.

Taking the wrist-band, I slipped my hand through it and watched as it automatically readjusted its size to fit me. "Master Jinn isn't feeling well and has remained in our rooms," I answered softly, eyeing the man.

The piercing gaze never left my face, "Oh, what a shame," he whispered dryly in a voice that mocked sincerity, "I hope he is feeling better by the time you return."

"Yes," I locked my eyes with him, "thank you."

The man smiled then, but it wasn't a smile of mirth. It was a smile of…emotions I couldn't name or begin to fathom. "There will be several security checks inside. Simply pass the wristband over the scanning devices next to each doorway and you will be admitted. The Directors' office is on the top floor."

He moved to let me by, and I slowly, deliberately, walked through the doorway.

"Good luck with the negotiations," he called behind me, in a tone I could almost describe as…gloating, "You hold the fate of many in your hands." He was anything but sincere, and yet I believed Qui-Gon when he said he thought this man had little to do with the mission, save the fact that his actions could unintentionally disrupt it. No, it wasn't the failure of the mission he was after, but our lives.

I continued on without answering, and as I walked across the lobby towards the turbo-ascenders across the room, I felt him staring at me…

TBC… (on Monday)