Thanks, Cerasi5. There's not much left of this story though ;-)
 
Padawan JanAQ, all will be revealed in due time. Thanks for the review.
 
 
Who wanted to see Kamon and Namira? Here you go. 

~*~*~*~*~

Kamon sat on the windowsill of Namira's room, looking at the street through his own faint reflection on the transparisteel. Outside the window the day was still as bright as when the Jedi had first come. How long ago had they come? A few days? A week? Feeling suddenly tired Kamon realized that with this never-ending sunlight mixing all days into one extensive day, he had totally lost the track of time.  My Master will not be happy to hear about it,  he thought with sudden regret. Now he wished his Master were here to offer support and guidance.  A Jedi should never loose the track of time.   Kamon repeated a lecture he had heard countless times in his life, from his own Master and from other masters at the Temple.

But was it really the confusing ever-present sunlight, merging the chain of days into one incredibly long day, tiresome for a person unaccustomed to it, that made him forget about time? Or was it the situation they had found themselves in?  Never loose the track of time, no matter the circumstances.  But the circumstances were, to put it mildly, out of ordinary.

Kamon shivered remembering the look on Obi-Wan's face in the medical center, those empty eyes, devoid of any feeling, devoid of life. Clear pools of nothing. As a padawan Kamon had seen many things – beautiful and ugly alike. Many of the things the galaxy had to offer. But Obi-Wan's eyes rivaled the worst of those. They reminded him the eyes he had seen once before – the eyes of a corpse. Usually there was surprise written in the eyes of the dead people as though they couldn't believe that death had found its way to them. But that man had never known what had hit him, didn't have time to become surprised, and there was nothing in his eyes, just a void. And the same void had been in the eyes of Obi-Wan – Kamon's dear friend. It had been too much to bear and Kamon had all but fled from the medical center, almost dragging Namira alongside.

He glanced at the girl sitting opposite from him in a large plush wine-red – just why do pretentious people love red so much? – armchair. She was fingering emerald leaves of a small domestic palm-tree beside the armchair absentmindedly. Even the beautiful plant, it appeared, became gloomy in the air of confusion and apprehension the two young people felt. The leaves of the innocent plant hang loosely, it seemed that even bright colours of the leaves grew dim.

Kamon averted his eyes from the plant onto the girl. A stray lock of chestnut hair unwove came loose from the thick tight braid Namira wore and fell over her forehead, gleaming in the brilliant sunlight with the colour of dark honey. She brushed it away automatically. Her large blue eyes stared into nothingness, crystalline tears sparkling in their corners.

Kamon knew she was troubled, could feel her anxiety radiating from her through the Force in strong waves. And he knew exactly what was troubling her – Obi-Wan. She hadn't known Obi-Wan for long, but it was impossible to not get attached to him. He seemed to radiate a warm charismatic aura, not only in the Force, but also in the very air, surrounding him. Now all that was gone.

Kamon did not know exactly what had happened to his friend. He and Namira had caught bits and pieces of Qui-Gon's conversation with Tarlott, but nothing particular. Kamon only knew that something horrible had happened, but then again one didn't need to be a Jedi to understand that. When he and Namira had come into Imata's apartment she burst into tears, and Kamon had no other choice but to try to console her. How he felt about it was another matter. Suffice to say that it hadn't been time he wished his Master were there. He had found that being strong is easier when you have someone weaker to support.

Finally calming down, still wiping her tears Namira had told him what she knew about soulhunters. To say that Kamon was disturbed by her story is to say nothing. What pained him most was that he could do nothing to help his friend in such situation. He could only sit and hope. Hope that others will succeed. Hope was the last consolation.

Something else was troubling Kamon as well. Merely a faint whisper of the Force in the back of his mind, but it made him uneasy. Still Kamon gave it no thought. He tried not to think at all, but it proved to be the hardest thing to do. Diverting his thoughts onto less painful subjects appeared to be more effective. And so Kamon did his best to think 'about something else': he watched carefully the air cars outside, tracing their pattern with his eyes; looked at the buildings that were glaring at him with straight rows of shining windows…

A sudden noise in the corridor – faint at first but steadily growing louder – caught Kamon's attention. And almost instantly a dim disturbing beat in the back of his mind turned into a full-blown Force's warning. An alarm that went off in his mind threw him into action even before he could think. His focus sharpened, hematite eyes darted around the room, registering possible escape routes from the impending danger. Immediately Kamon transformed from a disturbed and idle young man into the well-trained Jedi apprentice. The vague noise in the corridor turned into distinguishable footsteps that paused at the door of Imata's apartment.

Acting purely on instinct Kamon grabbed Namira from her chair, almost tipping the poor palm-tree over in haste, and pushed the slightly protesting and genuinely confused girl to stand behind his back.

****************

Namira opened her mouth to ask what was wrong – as she didn't hear the commotion outside the door – but was cut off by Kamon's hand, placed unceremoniously over her lips. Irritated by the suddenly weird behaviour of her Jedi protector and strangely warmed by his touch at the same time, she tried to unclamp his hand to say something. However only a bubbling noise came out of her throat, her attempts having failed miserably.

"Shh," Kamon hissed at her softly. "We need to get out of here and be very quiet as we do so," he whispered.

A hot wave of fear rose inside her, colouring her face rose-red. Unintentionally she grabbed the edges of Kamon's tunic tightly. She needed to hold onto something. And his tunic seemed just the perfect something to hold onto.

 What is it? Who? Why?  Her thoughts tangled on the slippery ground of panic.

"Follow me, do what I say and don't be afraid," Kamon whispered as if he had heard her thoughts.

 He very well might do just that,  she thought.  He's a Jedi after all. They're supposed to be able to do this.

But she doubted it was the case. She herself couldn't make anything out of the mess in her head, let alone some stranger.

 Stranger? But he's no stranger. He's… 

A sudden jerk yanked her out of her thoughts as Kamon shoved her none too gently across the room to the window. She was about to hiss at him angrily for being such a 'gentleman' when the doors flew open and half a dozen heavily armed men, dressed in black cloths with masks, covering their faces, burst into the room. Her startled cry came out as a muffled squeak that was easily drowned out by the pounding of the men's boots on the floor.

"To the window. Now!" Kamon ordered her, activating his lightsaber.

"But it…" she tried to object.

"I said now!" he shouted over the racket of first blaster shots that erupted from the newcomers.

 …doesn't open,  she finished in her mind.

She ran two steps to the window and stopped there, unsure.

"Open it!" Kamon yelled, nearing the window while deflecting the blaster bolts that boiled the air around the two people in defense.

"It's stuck!" Namira shouted back, jerking the window knob wildly until her hands started to ache. The window had no intention to open.

Without as much as a thought Kamon grabbed the nearest chair and threw it at the stubborn window. With a feeble clang the glass shattered, letting the street din surge into the room. Sounds mixed, comprising a cacophony of hellish music. Remarkably this wild mix of sounds scared Namira more than anything else. The situation seemed so unreal – a scene from a holovid movie, not from real life. Everything but sounds. They were rich and deep, sharp as a knife, cutting the ears – and horribly, undeniably real.

Namira suddenly felt dizzy, her head swimming in a mayhem of emotions never felt before, and she found herself grinning stupidly. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Kamon's concerned glance.

"'m 'kay," she muttered in a weak attempt to reassure him.

"Yeah, right." She heard him growl.

His blue 'saber flashed in the air non-stop, slashing – cutting the tight threads of wind, gushing from broken window – filling the room with electrified hum. Blaster bolts rained in a downpour of red and green fire onto the two young people at the window. The attackers hollered in rage at their helpless inability to hit the target that seemed all too easy at first.

Kamon yelled something at the top of his lungs, trying to cover the hectic noise of the once so peaceful room. But even using the Force his voice was drowned out by the tumult, or maybe Namira simply couldn't register what he was saying. She could only see his lips moving without a sound, though he was standing a mere foot from her. Apparently seeing that his efforts had no effect on the shocked girl, Kamon flung his lightsaber from his right hand to the left one and embraced Namira's waist with his now free hand. Using the Force to aid his physical strength he quickly lifted the slender girl onto the windowsill.

Looking down at the seemingly endless drop of the tall building, countless rows of balconies and windows below, straight white wall – going down, it seemed, to the very core of the planet – Namira felt suddenly sick.

 What if I fall?  A thought flashed in her mind, then returned, slower. She was suddenly mesmerized by the height, balancing on the very edge, unable to take her eyes away from the sunlit depth of the street, dizzying patterns of the traffic.

Her knees abruptly went weak, and she wavered on her feet still unable to look anywhere but down. At the last possible moment, when she almost fell out of the window and into the street that was bursting with life and hurrying air cars to drop down the uncountable number of stories, she managed to direct her fall inside the room instead of outside.

A startled cry told her that she wasn't all that fortunate – or rather someone else was a bit unfortunate as she landed on something, or someone, soft. She opened her eyes –  When did I close them?  she wondered – to see the soft beige fabric of Kamon's tunic.

The fight didn't even start to subside, if anything it only intensified, though a couple of the attackers were already lying on the floor, unmoving, making the sharp contrast with the ordinary furnishings of the cozy room. Namira's eyes fixed on the still figures and she inhaled sharply – the sight was not too pleasant even for the experienced Jedi padawan, let alone for the girl who had spent her entire life under the care of her loving father. Her fingers dug into the shoulder of the young man painfully, alarming him instantly. It proved to be a mistake as he turned for a split second to look at her. Just for a moment his attention was diverted from the firing men, but that moment was enough.

Namira heard a short cry, a cry of pain. And it came from Kamon. Panicked she searched his eyes, but he already turned away to block more blaster bolts. The lightsaber swished in the air like a cloud of intense blue light, deflecting bolts and sending out sparks. But now Kamon operated with his right hand.

"Get back up there!" he shouted.

"But… but I'll fall…" Namira protested weakly.

"No, you won't. Up, now," Kamon ordered in a voice, not bearing objection.

Meekly Namira obeyed. On the unsteady legs, clutching the window frame for support, she got onto the windowsill. With one graceful leap Kamon followed her, still deflecting blaster bolts.

"And what do we do now?" Namira asked, holding onto the window frame for dear life.

"Now we jump," the Padawan replied, not even sparing her a glance.

"Are you crazy?!" the girl exploded. "If we jump down there," she pointed down, though Kamon wasn't looking at her. "they would find just pieces of us, if there would be left anything at all!" Namira shouted in almost hysterics.

Suddenly the world around her turned upside down. The traffic and the sky flashed before her eyes. The ground fell downwards – or upwards. Everything mixed in a blur of colours and wind. But before she could get really scared she felt solid ground under her feet again.

"Wha… What… w-was that?" she stammered in shock.

"We need to get out of here before they realize where we have gone," Kamon said, ignoring her incoherent question. He went to the large transparisteel door, intending to open it.

Namira peered around, trying to comprehend where they were and how did they get there. She gathered that they were on one of the balconies. But as far as she knew all the balconies were pretty far to the sides or down from the window of Imata's apartment.  So how did we get here?  she wondered silently since her 'gentleman' wasn't too talkative being occupied trying to break the balcony door without any subsidiary tools.

Trying to find out the answer on her own she looked around again, then up… and almost screamed – one of their attackers was looking down at her with an angry scowl. A blaster suddenly appeared next to his head, and before Namira knew it the man opened fire.

With a piercing cry she dashed to Kamon, trying to find protection from the shower of blaster bolts. At the very same moment Kamon finally managed to open the door with the aid of the Force. Please that he had managed it he didn't have time to react when Namira collided with him. With a horrifying crash they flew into the room landing on the floor in a heap.

****************

Kamon couldn't thank the Force enough that the room turned out to be empty. He quickly picked himself up from the floor and helped Namira up as well. Now they needed to get out of there, preferably quickly. He looked the room over in search of the door, noting absentmindedly Namira's jumbled hair and pale face. She was clutching his hand fearfully. The door was nowhere to be seen.

He had jumped as far down as he dared, counting Namira's weight, added to his own.  It is pretty far down, it should hold them for a while,  he told himself. But he knew that this while wasn't too much time, minutes at the most. Frankly speaking, he would have preferred to land in another building – or on another planet. But that was not an option – unfortunately.

Finally finding the door –  What senseless idiot masked it with those plants?!  – he ran to it, dragging Namira, who had long ago lost any ability to object, along.

In a blur of frantic haste they ran out of the apartment and into the corridor. The usually crowded corridor of the huge building met them with eerily empty silence. Making up his mind Kamon rushed to the landing platform.  If we couldn't jump to another building, we will be able to fly to another building… I hope.

The landing platform was as empty as the rest of the building they had run through. Kamon sighed in relief, as he had been half expecting to meet their attackers here. But apparently they weren't that fast, loaded with all those weapons.

Namira, abruptly coming to her senses, hailed an air taxi. A white air taxi left the row of traffic and soared to them, landing with a graceful arc. A swarthy guy, demonstrating a sparkling white-teeth smile, invited them inside. Without hesitation Namira got into the back seat of the air taxi. Kamon jumped in next to her. At the same moment the door to the landing platform flew open, revealing seven armed men, dressed in black. Next second the platform was filled with blinding blaster fire and the roar of the air taxi taking off.

Luckily the taxi driver turned out to be an excellent pilot and managed to fly them safely out of the hot spot. Now the question was…

"Where to?" the driver and Kamon asked in unison.

Namira shrugged.

*******************