Another Path Part Three By Galatyn Renner For Charlotte, who waited a year for Frank, but read this first, just for me. Always be mindful of the Living Force, Master. Author's Note: Obi-Wan Kenobi belongs (unfortunately) to George Lucas. Everyone else is mine!

Erena Nabis stood in front of the mirror in her quarters, reciting the Jedi Code to herself. It wasn't helping. The vibro-scissors in one hand and the hair in the other still had not met.

'You've been a Padawan for almost a month,' she told herself. 'The hair does not become your present station. As a vestige of your former life, it deserves to go.' She couldn't even Force herself to cut it. 'What would Obi- Wan think of me?' She thanked the Force that he was almost on the other side of the Temple, in the Council chambers.

Erena was taking advantage of her Master's absence to do something she had been meaning to do for a long time: cut her knee-length hair into something more suitable to a Jedi Padawan. In other words, the shorter, the better.

But now that she had the opportunity, Erena couldn't bring herself to do it. She had become so attached to the hair that it would take an act of the Force to get it off her head. Or, she realized, a direct order from her Jedi Master.

As if on cue, Obi-Wan Kenobi stuck his head through her ajar bedroom door. Erena didn't mind, they had set down some ground rules a few days earlier: on a closed door, you knock. Anything else is fair game.

"Padawan, what are you doing with those?"

"Trying to cut my hair; I should have done it weeks ago, Master. Will you just tell me to do it, so I can override my better judgment and get rid of twelve years worth of hair?" Erena was frustrated.

"I would never ask you to override your better judgment. And I do not think you should cut your hair"

Erena laid the scissors down and turned to look patiently at her Jedi Master. "I have the longest hair of any human apprentice in the Temple. It's a bad reflection on you, Master."

"It is not. I think it may actually prove an advantage; the Council has assigned us our first mission."

"Oh, where to? Sit down, please." Obi-Wan insinuated the rest of himself through her door and sat on the bed. Erena plopped down on the floor where she was.

"Alderaan. We were specifically requested."

"By, let me guess, Senator Nallaneen?"

Obi-Wan favored her with a smile. "Yes. Ostensibly to serve as defense at the wedding of his daughter, but I suspect that was because the Council wouldn't let us come simply as guests. Sheris is marrying a member of the Royal Family: the security will be flawless."

"Are Master Qui-Gon and Anakin coming, as well?"

"An invitation was extended to them, as well. Unfortunately, they're embroiled in peace talks on Drall and cannot come."

"What does my hair have to do with all of this?" Erena asked, confused.

"On Alderaan it is the custom for women to wear very long hair. You'll be able to blend in, and if there is any need for Jedi defense, you'll be able to discern it more quickly than if you stood out as one," Obi-Wan explained.

"Oh, well, where will you be?"

"Probably trailing around after Senator Nallaneen; the man is endlessly curious about the Jedi."

"So you'll be explaining thousands of years of Jedi history and philosophy, and all I have to do is mingle?"

"More or less."

"I want your job: I'm no good with people."

"Don't whine, Padawan. You have plenty of friends at the Temple."

"They're Jedi." Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. Erena sighed and subsided. "You're right, Master. I'll try to look upon this as part of my training."

Obi-Wan considered meeting this with a Master Yoda, but refrained. "An excellent idea." He rose from the bed, signaling the end of the conversation.

Erena stood as well. "Thank you, Master. When do we leave?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three days later, they stepped off the diplomatic transport into an Alderaani docking bay. Obi-Wan had piloted the small craft himself, allowing Erena to hone her flying skills by acting as copilot.

The trip had been an uneventful one: hours not spent in the cockpit were involved in meditation and lightsaber drills. Erena's instructors had also assigned her reading and lessons to complete while she was gone.

Needless to say, she was more than anxious to get out of the ship and see Alderaan. The Jedi were met at the spaceport by an escort and driven to palatial House Nallaneen, in the heart of Aldera city.

The ride was all too short for Erena, who tried to take in everything at once. It seemed only a moment before they were shown to adjoining rooms in the East Wing and left to their own devices. Erena unpacked and then stepped out onto the shared balcony that overlooked the spacious gardens and waterfall below.

Obi-Wan joined her. "The Nallaneens are giving a banquet tonight in Sheris' honor. We've been requested to attend. Do you feel up to it?"

Erena looked at him, surprised. "Of course, Master."

"I do realize you dislike this sort of thing, Erena."

"I 'imagine' I would dislike it, Master, but I'm not the least bit tired. It's the air, I think." She took a deep breath of the afternoon.

"Qui-Gon always said it had healing properties. Whenever we'd have leave, he'd always go to Alderaan."

"You speak of him in the past tense."

"He is no longer my Master." A hint of bitterness crept into Obi-Wan's voice.

"Yes, but- " Obi-Wan turned abruptly and stalked inside, cutting her off. Erena sensed that she had hit a sore spot. She considered going after him, but decided it would be better to apologize when he had cooled down a bit. Erena sighed. This was not like Obi-Wan. Just by being around him a short time, she had found Obi-Wan to be a solid, by-the-book sort of person, easier to irritate than anger. She did not try to effect either, but had now succeeded spectacularly on both accounts.

Erena went back through the other door and sat down on the bed. She thought about crying and discarded the idea as not worth the energy required. Obi- Wan's shields were encroaching upon the part of her brain used for rational thought, though, so who knew how long her control would last. Rubbing her temples, Erena caught the knock on the door the second time around.

It wasn't Obi-Wan, that much she 'was' certain of. Erena keyed the door open and bowed back when the young woman standing there curtsied. "My lady Sheris was wondering if you would care to join her in preparing for the ball tonight?"

Fairly sure that going anywhere without Obi-Wan's permission was a bad idea, Erena stuck for a moment. He 'had' said to be polite. She must decide now, and this mightn't be so bad. "I would be honored. Just a minute, let me leave a note." She grabbed a piece of flimsy and scribbled a short missal to Obi-Wan.

"If my lady will follow me?" Erena did so, a bit confused. But the girl offered no explanation, leading Erena silently down a twist of hallways and stopping abruptly at one door. "These are Lady Sheris' apartments." She opened the door for Erena. "Good day, my lady."

Erena stepped inside, wishing she had a hat to take off. The suite was done in chrome, deep rose, and luxury. It made her feel out of place. The sight of three girls gathered around the oversized vanity, not quite giggling, heightened the feeling. They had turned around when the door opened.

The tallest of the three came forward. Erena barely recognized the sixteen- year-old without the blood. "I'm so glad you've come. I owe you a great deal more than I can ever repay, though I hardly know you."

Feeling more like a boy than she ever had before, Erena bowed. "I did only my duty, Lady Sheris. Any other Jedi would have done the same."

"Can we have an introduction, Sher?" One of the girls still at the vanity spoke.

Sheris rolled her eyes. "May I present my guest, Fior-Lyyn Erena Nabis." Erena winced and wondered how her despised first name had gotten out. "My friends, Lady Finoule Shiesu and Lady Niressa Dieson. Fin and Niri, for short."

Erena bowed slightly to the two girls, who nodded back. "If we're using nicknames, I would prefer Erena."

"But Fior-Lyyn is so beautiful." Sheris smiled.

Erena grimaced. "Please, no. Only my instructors use that, and my Master, when he's upset."

"Your Master? Slavery is outlawed in the Republic." Niressa, studying for a career in diplomatic work, said, concerned.

Erena shot her hostess a look that said 'Didn't you tell them?' and Sheris answered aloud: "No." She turned back to Niressa. "Erena is a Jedi."

The one of the other girls spoke up. "Oh, are you, truly? I've always wanted to meet one." Her name was Finoule, Erena remembered,

Feeling she would never get used to this, Erena said, "But you must have seen them before. What kept you from speaking to one? We are not so intimidating, are we?"

"They were all men: my mother would never let me." Niressa blushed.

"She must meet Obi-Wan. He could charm a hawkbat out of its nest if he wanted to."

"The man who came in with you, dressed like you? He was magnificent, even in those awful robes." Finoule clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh dear, I didn't say that."

Erena was more confused than angry. "What's wrong with my robes?"

Niressa, whom Erena could tell Held more timidity than Finoule, said, "They really don't do very much for your figure."

"Oh. I hadn't really considered that."

Sheris attempted to change the subject. "What were you planning to wear to the ball tonight?" She failed, because Erena gestured down at what she was wearing: the 'awful robes.'

"Oh you can't!" Finoule burst out.

Sheris shot her a meaningful look. "Fin, behave, or I'm telling Aunt Marhi." She eyed Erena critically. "You must be about my size, come and have a look at my things. I'm sure we can find you something."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Approximately one standard hour later, Erena stood in front of Sheris' full- length mirror wearing more credits than she had ever seen in her life. The girls had finally decided that blue was her color, so after ransacking Sheris' entire wardrobe, they had gotten Erena into a most beautiful ensemble.

The underdress was pure white satin that fell loosely to the floor. On top of that was a long-sleeved overdress, split from neck to waist, of sapphire Lovetti moth silk, embroidered in gold around the hem that fell just short of the bottom of the under dress. Niressa had helped lace up the front, so that the blue silk cords formed a brilliant pattern against the white beneath.

Finoule broke the silence. "You look . . . wonderful, Erena. Now, about the hair . . .."

Erena reached up and pulled out the pins holding the mane around her head. She undid the braid and let her hair fall around her in a curtain of honey light. Niressa gasped. "Sheris, it's longer than yours!"

"How long have you been growing it?"

"About twelve years, I suppose. I usually keep it up, out of my way."

"Thank goodness you haven't cut it. " Erena smiled, remembering Obi-Wan's comment earlier. "You know what she would look lovely in, Sher?"

"What?"

"Well, seeing this," Finoule picked up Erena's Padawan braid, "made me think. We could do it in a lot of tiny braids, like Cherin had the other night."

Erena reclaimed it. "Watch the braid, please. I have no plans to cut that."

"Does it mean something?" Niressa blushed. "I'm sorry, none of us really know very much about the Jedi."

"It's quite all right. I don't really know much about anything else. The braid is a symbol of my status as a Padawan Learner, an apprentice Jedi."

"And Obi-Wan is your Master."

"Yes." Erena nodded

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"I'm his student, partner, and, I hope, friend."

"So you're not, ah, romantically involved?" Niressa twirled her finger, embarrassed, possibly because of the personal nature of the question or because Erena was giving her full attention.

"No. The Joining ceremony is similar to a marriage, but there are no romantic attachments between Jedi."

"So that means he's open?" Sheris gave Finoule a hard stare that shut her up. Erena changed the subject.

"I think I know what you have in mind for my hair, but wouldn't it take a rather long time?"

"I don't think so, if we don't use 'droids this time." Finoule began to look sheepish and Erena wondered just what sort of things the three of them got up to.

"I have an idea. You might want to step back." Erena sat down carefully on the floor and spread her hair out around her. She closed her eyes and the strands began to float up until it looked like she had tried to connect to a power socket. Erena's fingers twitched slightly in her lap and the hair began to twist itself into many braids, all similar to the one that still lay carefully over her shoulder.

Sheris and company watched intently until a knock at the suite door startled them. Sheris went to open it. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood there, looking as out of place as he felt. "Have you got my apprentice in there? She seems to have disappeared. About this tall, long hair, brown eyes-- Erena, what are you doing?"

He had caught sight of his Padawan's ongoing attempt at hairdressing. "I don't think she can hear you, Jedi Kenobi."

"I should think not."

Erena's eyes flew open as her hair continued twirling. "Master!"

"May I ask what you are 'up' to, Padawan?" His eyes followed her hair in that general direction.

"Lady Sheris very kindly offered to help me dress for the ball. I am sorry that I did not ask first, but you were rather. . . indisposed." Erena attempted to finish tactfully.

"That is not the word, Padawan. And you did the right thing."

"I'm glad you think so." Erena felt immeasurably relieved.

Obi-Wan addressed the girls. "I'll leave you ladies to your preparations. Padawan, behave. Don't be late." Erena nodded, half-serious, and Obi-Wan took himself off.

When the door closed, Finoule fell back across the divan in a mock swoon. "He's gorgeous, Erena! You have such luck."

"I do not. You wouldn't want to live with him, he's horribly strict." Erena exaggerated in an attempt to bring Finoule out of hyperspace.

Unfortunately, she was not to be dissuaded. "Is he? 'I' wouldn't mind."

"I wish I'd been wearing a bit more." Niressa picked anxiously at the hem of her chemise.

"It's quite all right," Erena reassured her.

"I simply must get him to ask me to dance." Finoule was still scheming.

"Fin," Sheris said gently, "Aunt Marhi won't let you stay after dinner. She never has before."

"Yes, I know, but-- oh, Sheris, you dance with him for me!"

"I shall be dancing with Marec the entire evening," Sheris proclaimed archly. Erena assumed that Marec was the groom to be.

"But Jedi Kenobi is very handsome, Erena. I shouldn't mind dancing with him," Niressa said softly. "And Mama will let me stay for the ball."

Erena decided to get Niressa her dance. It would be good for her and would give Obi-Wan a respite from Senator Nallaneen. The Jedi probably danced as he did everything else: consummately.

Erena's revery was disturbed by a loud thump, which she determined to be Finoule, swooning her way onto the floor.

"You are going to ruin your dress, cousin," Sheris cautioned. "Niri, have you decided if you're going to wear the white or violet one?"

Niressa walked over to the two dresses spread on Sheris' enormous bed. One, edged in demure white lace, seemed to cower beside the other, which swirled in deep purple. "Oh, the white, I suppose, Sher."

"If I may say so, my lady," Erena interjected politely, "the violet would suit your coloring better. And call attention to your eyes."

Finoule held the dress in question up in front of Niressa. "Oh, it does! How do you notice such things?"

Erena allowed herself a small smile. "Jedi senses."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Per instructions, Erena was not late to dinner. She made a lovely entrance on the arm of a gentleman she did not know who seemed to be there for the sole purpose of escorting unescorted ladies. She caught sight of Obi-Wan, a vision in dark red, already seated at Senator Nallaneen's left.

Time seemed to slow as she glided toward him. Obi-Wan sensed her, rose, and took her hand.

"Senator, may I present my apprentice, Erena Nabis."

The Senator, a heavy-set man with bright eyes and salt-and-pepper hair, rose as well. "I am so glad to finally meet the young woman to whom House Nallaneen owes so much." He also, of course, kissed her hand. Erena thought she would never get used to this, either.

She demurred politely. "It was only my duty, Senator. Any other Jedi would have done the same."

"But not with such grace and presence of mind." Erena hadn't thought grace was a factor and wondered what exactly the Senator thought she had done.

Obi-Wan, sensing her confusion, intervened. "Thank you for your hospitality, Senator." He answered with something polite and inconsequential that Erena couldn't hear. Someone pulled out a chair for her, and she took the hint, sitting at Obi-Wan's left.

Dinner passed in a rapid blur of colorful people and delicious food. Sheris made a lovely entrance on the arm of a gentleman that Erena rated only second to Obi-Wan in the area of looks. When the food began coming, Obi-Wan mindspoke to her. // Padawan, in my experience, there is only one rule to dining on Alderaan: don't touch anything purple. It probably contains Deneriir, and only the locals can digest it. I learned the hard way. //

Erena nodded, suppressing the urge to grin or ask him about it. She took a bit of everything offered her, checking carefully for violet bits. When Erena felt she absolutely could not hold another bite, Senator Nallaneen rose and led everyone into the ballroom. Erena trailed after Obi-Wan and they stood with everyone else around the walls as the classical jizz orchestra struck up a waltz and Marec led Sheris in the first dance.

// Master, must I dance? //

// I don't believe that's required in the Code, Erena. However, you should stay close, in the unlikely event of a problem. //

// Yes, Master. Do you see the young lady over there, the blond one in the purple dress who's twisting her handkerchief? //

Obi-Wan looked. //Yes, Padawan, I see her. //

// She's been very, very kind to me tonight, she doesn't have an escort, and I was just wondering. . . //

// You were wondering if I would dance with her. // Obi-Wan gave his Padawan the patented Kenobi Strange Look, which hitherto had only ever been directed at Qui-Gon Jinn.

// Her name is Niressa and she was very curious about the Jedi. Think of it as a chance to escape Senator Nallaneen and proselytize at the same time. // Having found some very large holes in her own argument, Erena shut up and looked pleadingly at him.

// Did you promise her a dance? // Obi-Wan managed to sound disapproving without opening his mouth.

// No, Master. I wasn't sure if you'd say yes. //

// Padawan. //

// She won't flirt. //

// I have your word on that. // Obi-Wan caught sight of Senator Nallaneen making his way toward him, no doubt with a fresh batch of Jedi-related questions on his lips. // Thank the Force Qui-Gon felt the need to teach me how to waltz. //

Erena watched him go, sincerely hoping that she hadn't done the wrong thing. She edged toward the desert table only to see a very beribboned lady take the last dish of sunfruit sherbet. Resisting the idea of using a Jedi mind trick to get the woman to put it back so she could have it, Erena caught the eye of a young man who was looking at her in a very strange way. He began to make his way toward her, and Erena edged away. She wished sincerely for her robes, or at least something she could 'move' in. 'Never again,' Erena promised herself, and caught sight of a curtained window a few couples away. 'Thank the Force for small miracles.' She checked to make sure no one was looking, ducked in, and sat on the right side of the window seat, pulling her feet up, dress and all.

And found that she was less than a meter away from a pair of bright green eyes. Someone had beaten her to the refuge. The young man was ensconced opposite Erena.

"Oh, I didn't know there was anyone else in here." She made reluctantly to go.

He caught her arm. "No, stay. I've been offplanet at school, and I don't know anyone here. You too?"

"Yes, I suppose you could say that." Erena arranged her skirts around her and scooted back into the seat.

"I'm only here because my father thought I needed a break; he couldn't come."

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Erena asked, smiling. His grin was infectious.

"Not in the least," he pronounced. "The food was good, but I hate dancing. I saw you staring at the sherbet. Do you want mine? I haven't touched it." He held the fluted dish out to Erena.

"Oh, no, I couldn't. You go ahead."

"I insist. The stuff's terrible. Someone gave it to me, and I was stupid enough not to toss it in one of the waste 'droids."

"Don't, it's lovely." Erena took a bite, to prove her point, and grimaced. She gave the dish back to him, swallowing with difficulty. "Ugh."

He smirked. "Never had it before, have you?"

"No, but almost." 'That night at the Menarai, the reason I'm here', Erena thought.

"Well, now you know. I'm Kerric Zaisai." He held out a hand.

"Erena Nabis." She shook it.

"Now I'm meant to kiss and bow over it, correct?" He was grinning again.

"It's perfectly fine with me if you don't."

"Thank you. I don't think there's room."

"There isn't." Erena sat back. "Who were you watching, besides me?"

"Well, they make a very nice couple. Purple and maroon, Galactrade colors." He pointed through the drapes at Obi-Wan and Niressa, who were, miraculously, still dancing.

"Yes, they do."

"Do you know them?"

"Yes." Erena decided to be closemouthed. She hadn't seen Finoule at the ball, so the fact that there were Jedi in attendance had not yet been broadcast.

"You sound a little miffed. Were you bent on going after him?"

Erena let out a small, surprised laugh. "Me? No!"

Kerric grinned wickedly at her. "Is she your sister, and you don't think he's good enough for her?"

"Niressa is a new friend, and Obi-Wan is an old one. I have no designs on either, and there is nothing between them." Erena's serene expression may have been a trifle smirky.

"Surnames?"

"Dieson and Kenobi."

"Hmm. The Diesons are very affluent, but I've never heard of the Kenobi line. Must be new money."

As far as she knew, Obi-Wan was the only one in existence. "They're very respectable, trust me." Erena, missing the familiar weight, pulled a braid out of her elaborate coiffure to hang over her right shoulder. Kerric reached over to put it back for her. "Don't, I like it that way."

He pulled back. "Sorry, just trying to help."

"Thank you."

"It makes you look like- never mind, it's not important."

They sat, watching the dancers, but Kerric's eyes kept straying back to the loose hair. Erena caught him doing it. "What does it make me look like?"

"Forget it."

"No, it obviously disturbs you."

"It shouldn't," he said bitterly.

Erena looked him straight in the face. "Do I look like a Jedi, Kerric?"

She now had the full attention of his pained eyes. "Yes, but you aren't, so it doesn't matter."

"What have you got against the Jedi?" Erena sensed a buried antipathy in him very strongly.

"Why are you defending them?" he challenged. Erena just looked at him, eyebrows raised. "You're not, you can't be. There aren't any Jedi here. Somebody said--"

"Somebody lied. Now what have the Jedi ever done to you?" In spite of her training, Erena felt self-righteous fury rising in her throat.

Kerric snorted. "Just ruined my life. Nothing important."

"How?"

"They took my sister. She was barely a year old, and I've never seen her since."

"What was her name?" Erena's tone went from diamonds to crushed glass.

"Karana. Zaisai, of course."

"When was she born?"

"Thirteen years ago, almost to the day."

Erena thought hard. "Did she have any birthmarks or distinguishing features?"

"Why are you interrogating me?" The self-righteous fury had changed sides.

"Because I might know her, Kerric! She would be about my age."

Kerric sized her up. He had thought she was older. "All right. She had a- a spot on her right elbow. Mother didn't have time to get it removed."

Erena sat back hard against the stone, her face ashen. Silently, she rolled up her sleeve and held her right forearm out to Kerric. He pushed the cloth back a bit more and revealed what he had just described.

"I don't suppose I need to tell you," Erena whispered huskily, "that the names of children taken by the Jedi are sometimes changed when they arrive at the Temple"

"I will never use it," Kerric said, equally as hoarse. "I've found my baby sister. My Karana." He reached over and pulled her into a hug, which she returned, drawn by the bonds of blood. They were interrupted by the sound of blaster fire outside the curtains.

Kerric attempted to leap off the seat and through the curtains. Erena held him back. "Never jump into a lightfight." She extended her Force senses. "Must be assassin 'droids. Do you have a blaster?" Kerric shook his head. "Vibroblade? Large stick?" Negative. "Then we're in deep trouble. I seem to have forgotten my 'saber."

// Padawan, your help would be appreciated. //

"Stay here." Erena ducked out and immediately determined the source of the fire. Stationary, boxy objects that had been waste 'droids now bristled with laser-spewing protrusions.

She tucked and rolled, somersaulting twice into the middle of the ballroom floor. Erena came up on her knees, almost tripping on the dress's train, and began dodging bolts. Reflecting one back with the Force and her hand, she was pleased to see the ersatz garbage can explode. 'Only about ten more to go.' Obi-Wan had destroyed three to her one; they lay vivisected on the floor, victims of the blue blade that continued to flash. Erena kicked herself mentally. 'He's going to mince me for forgetting mine.' She combusted two more 'droids and had an epiphany: if Jedi telepathy worked with Force bonds, maybe it would work with blood bonds.

// Kerric, you can come out now. // Obi-Wan didn't acknowledge her, but Kerric stuck his head out of the curtains and edged along the wall, looking sheepish. // Brother dear, go raise the alarm. // Kerric took off like a laser bolt through the nearest door. 'He's a bit of a coward,' Erena thought, and felt something hot brush the back of her head.

She ignored it in favor of Force-pushing a 'droid hard against the wall. It had been aiming at Obi-Wan's back. He gave her a slight nod and dispatched the last two.

The exhilaration of the moment disappeared as the two Jedi surveyed the damage. At least five people were dead and more lay wounded on the ballroom floor. Erena thanked the Force that a line dance had been in progress when the shooting started. It had kept everyone away from the walls where the droids had been innocuously stationed.

Erena broke the silence. "Who in the galaxy would do such a thing?" she said, half to herself.

But Obi-Wan was only a meter away, so he heard. "Well planned and previously timed. I don't know. Yet." Tight-lipped, he did not look at Erena. "Your 'saber would have been of use, Padawan."

"Master, I--"

"We will discuss it later. Our work is here and now." He nodded toward Sheris, who was bending over someone, in tears. "Go."

Erena half-ran across the room to her friend and knelt beside her. The man Sheris cradled in her arms was the one she had danced with all evening: Marec, her husband-to-be. She was speaking to him, her words obscured by sobs. Erena placed two fingers on the motionless man's temple. The pulse was barely there, and then, gone.

"Sheris, there's nothing the medics can do for him." She got back a tearstained almost glare.

"You're a Jedi. Heal him. Give me back the best of my life!" So Erena poured the Living Force into the burnt hole is Marec's stomach, just as she had done for Sheris that night on Coruscant. It had the same effect. The wound stopped bleeding and turned pink around the edges before Erena pulled out. She did not notice, as Marec had slumped over in a dead faint. By that time Kerric had returned, leading an army of medics and 'droids and feeling rather proud of himself. He still sincerely wished the ballroom had not been soundproof, though.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

An ambush is not something one recovered easily from. Not even a Jedi escapes without emotional drain, much less physical. After the ruined dinner party, Obi-Wan and Erena went separately to their quarters when it was clear that they could do no more good. Obi-Wan had apprised the Council of the situation and been told to stay alert, that he would be informed of any further developments. He now sat in meditation, searching the pathways of the Force for a clue as to who had planted the assassin turrets.

Erena comforted a devastated Sheris, and then turned the job over to the more capable Lady Nallaneen. Nursing an acute sense of failure and a few blaster burns, she limped back to her room and changed slowly back into her robes, not even meeting her own eyes in the mirror, dreading facing Obi- Wan.

Although she felt that she had dishonored them, Erena was forever a Jedi at heart. She knew her duty. So it was that his Padawan knocked contritely on Obi-Wan's door, fearing at least a tongue lashing and at most expulsion from the Order: Jedi did not forget their lightsabers.

Obi-Wan had found nothing in his aforementioned search and had given up in frustration when he was interrupted. He sensed Erena and guessed what she had come for. Remembering and imitating Qui-Gon in spite of himself, Obi- Wan sat comfortably and counted mentally to ten before telling Erena to come in.

She immediatly knelt and offered up her 'saber hilt to him in both hands. Obi-Wan accepted it as he asked, "What was your mistake, my apprentice?"

Erena kept her eyes lowered as she answered. "I allowed my preconception to lead me into error. If I had kept my thoughts--"

Obi-Wan cut her off. "Stop spouting Jedi mantra. Tell me why you forwent your nature, and do it in words that you didn't find in a Temple tome."

Meeting his eyes, Erena said, "It's a new environment, Master. For the first time in my life I am surrounded by people and things not inherently Jedi. It's facinating and overwhelming at the same time. I'm sorry to say that the need for a lightsaber was the last thing I expected."

"Padawan, you've taken your first step into a . . . larger world. Nothing they told you at the Temple could have prepared you for this. You'll see a lot of things in the next ten years; this is only the beginning."

"I'll never forget my 'saber again," Erena promised earnestly.

"No, but you'll forget other things, you'll be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You'll see friends die, and it might be your fault."

Erena sobered, if possible, more. "Maybe I'm not meant to be a Jedi."

Obi-Wan discounted this possibility without wondering what had prompted it. "You were born a Jedi. The Force chose you. 'I' chose you. And, despite what you may believe, today you responded like a Jedi: making the best of a very bad situation. I do not think you could have done much more had you had your 'saber."

"I could have saved Marec," Erena said bitterly.

Obi-Wan looked surprised. "You did save Marec. He walked out of that room because of you."

"There were others who died."

"Their blood is on the hands of the despot person responsible for this massacre, not yours, Padawan."

"Yes, Master." The patent response of Jedi apprentices everywhere, appropriate for all occasions.

"Today has not gone the way anyone planned, least of all you or me, but if it's any consolation, I didn't forget."

"Didn't you, Master? My birthday was yesterday."

Obi-Wan had the grace to look chagrined. "I knew I should have rechecked the Temple records."

"It's quite all right. What did you get me?" Erena's spirits were nothing if not resilient.

"Padawan." Obi-Wan attempted to look disapproving.

"I'm a Jedi. I can't help knowing these things."

"Exactly what I used to tell Qui-Gon." He took a white box from the table beside him and presented it to Erena. She shifted to sit cross-legged, taking the cover off.

Inside lay a pair of beautifully crafted wooden combs, etched with twining vines and flowers. Obi-Wan spoke before Erena could collect her scattered wits. He sounded less self-assured than she had ever heard him.

"They're not the least bit practical; they were for your hair, but--" The word hung in the air like a stone about to fall as Erena reached back and removed the pins that held her braids up. More than half of the hair came away in her hand. She felt the ends of what was left: they were frizzled and burnt.

Obi-Wan gently took the box from her and set it aside. "For another time. It will grow back."

Erena nodded, tears sparkling in her eyes as she held more than two feet of hair in her hands. "My offering to the Jedi." She sighed, an attempt at self-composition. "Give me a meditation, Master. My soul seeks peace."

Obi-Wan thought a moment and then settled upon a favorite of Qui-Gon's. He chose it unconsciously and recited easily, unable to count the number of times that it had been repeated to him. "It will be a hard life, one without reward, without remorse. Without regret. A path will be placed before you; the choice, yours alone. Do what you think you cannot do. It will be a hard life, but you will find who you are."

Erena closed her eyes, her breathing measured. Obi-Wan laid a hand on her head, and they sat in silence for neither knew how long. An instant of calm in the eye of the storm.

Both were awakened, if that is the right word, by the buzz of the wall communicator. Repressing things better left unsaid, Obi-Wan got up to accept the transmission. An image of Mace Windu appeared, magnified by the huge viewscreen. Rising quickly, Obi-Wan bowed, as did Erena.

The Council Master's face was grave, "Obi-Wan, are you sure this is an secure connection?"

Obi-Wan moved to switch the data scrambler on. "Yes, Master."

"I must be brief. We believe that the ambush you were involved in is linked to what has just occurred outside the Senate Hall." The two Jedi waited, tensed. Erena noted mentally that Master Windu enjoyed suspense. "Viceroy Organa was the victim of an assassination attempt."

Obi-Wan concealed his shock. "And the Council had no warning?"

"None. We believe the Sith were involved."
The End, For Now . . .