The stars spread out like a vast blanket, clear and sharp through the cool night air.

Qui-Gon Jinn stood on the small balcony outside their quarters in the Seratiniun Hall of Negotiations, where he and the other Jedi were staying. The balcony showed Qui-Gon a breathtaking view of Seratina's only city, Sera, lit up by a thousand individual lights. It was a beautiful planet. Cool and calm with lush landscape and dramatic buildings. Qui-Gon could easily imagine himself living somewhere like this, somewhere so peaceful.

Yet amidst the quiet serenity inside himself, there was a stirring of unease. 

"The mission at hand should be simple enough," he murmured to the night sky. That was not what was troubling him, he doubted there would be any problems with the tests, all should go smoothly in that area. No, it was the other Master/Padawan team that was bothering him. He couldn't quite place what it was, something niggling at the back of his mind…

Qui-Gon shook his head to clear his thoughts. Don't centre on your anxieties. Keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs. He smiled to himself. How many times had he quoted similar sayings to Obi-Wan? Focus. Live for the present moment. Keep the living Force in mind. It seemed he needed to follow a little of his own advice.

A small cry interrupted his musings, and Qui-Gon turned, peering through the open glass doors toward his Padawan. Obi-Wan lay tangled amongst his sheets, his lips open as another cry escaped them, thrashing in the throes of a desperate nightmare.

Qui-Gon could feel the boy's anxiety, emanating from him in great waves that rolled through the air, invading Qui-Gon's mind. He crossed over to the boy in five easy steps, placing a large, cool hand on Obi-Wan's forehead.

For a moment Obi-Wan stilled, his features scrunched with his pain.

"Master," he whispered.

"Shhh," murmured Qui-Gon. "I am here Obi-Wan. It is just a nightmare."

Although Obi-Wan's eyes remained closed, Qui-Gon's words reached deep inside him, soothing the nightmare and enabling sleep to take over. Qui-Gon stood by his side, listening to the deep, even breaths his Padawan now drew.

Although he was now nineteen and well on the way to becoming a man, Qui-Gon still saw Obi-Wan as the lost thirteen year old he had taken for an apprentice six years ago. Obi-Wan had grown. He had become a skilled fighter, a wise person, and had developed a good connection to the Force. He had become more determined, taller and more handsome, the blue-green eyes constantly kindled with a light of enthusiasm. Qui-Gon knew the time for his being an apprentice was almost over, and the time to become a Jedi Knight was drawing nearer. Part of Qui-Gon was immensely proud when he thought of this, but another part of him was filled with anxiety. He was like a father who had watched his son grow up, and was now unwilling to let him go. He knew these feelings were selfish, and yet he could not shake them.

"As the apprentice lets go, so must the Master," he said softly.

Yes, he would have to let go. He would have to watch Obi-Wan leave and become his own Master.

"But not yet. Not yet."

***

Leyana Raeimi awoke with a small gasp, her eyes wide and heart pounding, as if she'd just run a marathon. She was sitting upright on her sleep couch, staring into an impenetrable darkness that pressed in around her, suffocating her as it wound its way around her lungs. For a moment panic invaded as she failed to breathe, desperately choking on the thick air, but she closed her eyes forcing several deep, calming breaths. With every exhalation, the tight band of panic around her chest loosened a little, and when she opened her eyes the darkness was no longer heavy and blinding, but lit by the soft glow of stars filtering through the glass doors.

The lingering details of her nightmare filled her mind, poisoning it in great, black streaks. It was the same dream she'd been having for months now, always the same, not a detail out of place.

She would be walking down a corridor in The Jedi Temple, nothing unusual or scary about that, except sometimes the corridor was just a normal corridor, and sometimes it went on forever, the pale marble floor stretching out in front of her like a river, the doors on either side identical. The dream never changed. She would walk down this corridor filled with a sense of impending doom, knowing something terrible was about to happen, but unable to stop it, unable to change the dream. Everytime she reached the main Temple doors, she noticed the way the sunlight splayed across the marble, creating beautiful, intricate patterns. Everytime she would walk through that door, onto the landing platform beyond.

And everytime she felt it. A shift, something she couldn't really describe. It was as if it was hanging onto the edge of her mind, skirting her thoughts to keep its identity secret. She wasn't sure if it was a thought, or a physical change, but something happened. Afterwards, when she was awake, she would try to focus on this change, but the thoughts slipped right through her fingers. It was extremely frustrating, because she knew this…thing was the key to her dream. The key to unlocking exactly what the dream was all about. Because after this shift, this change, came the pain. The most immense, excruciating pain she had ever imagined. It was just a flash, but it seemed to shoot straight from her heart, sending great, rolling waves across the rest of her body. There was something she could sense in this pain, almost like an emotion of aching sadness, or fear, or hate, but before she could feel more than a second she would wake up. It happened every night, without fail, and the memory of that pain followed Leyana round like a black cloud, lingering in the back of her mind.

She sighed and shook her head, her long, golden hair hanging in loose waves down her back. Too many sleepless nights, she thought bitterly to herself. At the Jedi Temple it didn't matter as much, but whilst on a mission she needed to be alert, not fighting exhaustion. And she wasn't quite sure why, but this mission seemed more important to her than others she had been on. Perhaps it was because of the conflict of the situation. Her sympathies lay heavily with both parties: the Seratiniuns were dying, it was important they find a cure. But the animal rights groups were only trying to protect the Teeltas, and all nature is sacred.

Or perhaps, she thought grimly, it is because I'll have to work with the legendary Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice.

The thought made her more nervous than she was willing to admit, because everyone at the Temple knew what a good Master/Padawan team they were. They had behind them a long list of successful missions, and their bond was one of the strongest known to the Jedi.

Of course, Leyana had an extremely strong bond with her own Master. She had been Shara Estaan's Padawan since she was only nine years old, and the ten years they had spent together had been filled with fun, fond memories. Without even trying, Leyana could sense her Master's presence, easy and restful in sleep. She liked the knowledge that Shara was always there, within close reach even if not physically. It gave her strength and comfort.

The thing that was troubling her seemed slightly ridiculous, and she would never confess it to anyone, but she felt what she thought of as 'bad vibes' whenever the two Master/Padawan teams were together. Qui-Gon and Shara seemed tense and wary around each other, and Obi-Wan had barely spoken two words to her throughout the entire journey, even though it had lasted a week. Leyana did not see why Yoda had insisted two Jedi teams should be sent on a routine mission.

She remembered her friend Siri had once been on a mission with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, because the council had decided Siri and her Master, Adi Gallia, could learn from the other's partnership.

Her heart contracted slightly. Surely that couldn't be why she and Shara were here, could it? Their relationship was fine, their bond strong and clear and their communication open. They were fine.

As if to prove her point, a stirring in the back of her mind told her Shara was awake. She could feel the other's presence shift into awareness, and felt her Master immediately casting around for Leyana herself.

"Padawan?" Shara's voice was soft, floating on the night air around them, a calm, gentle sound. Leyana smiled and turned to face her mentor, her sharp gaze fixing on the other's face. Shara's mother had been from a planet named Laketar, and she'd passed the deep purple eyes and pale skin the Laketarans were known for onto her daughter. Shara's hair was blacker than midnight, and she wore it pinned to her head in a complicated pattern of swirls and coils. Only those who were very privileged had seen her with her hair loose, cascading onto her shoulders and making her appear younger, and softer.

Leyana studied her Master for a moment, noting the way her striking appearance leant her an almost regal air. Shara smiled. "Your full of thoughts, I can feel them."

 Leyana nodded. "I was thinking about your mother," she replied. Shara didn't need to question her meaning; she could sense the direction her Padawan's thoughts had taken. There wasn't anything they kept from each other.

Except the dreams.

Leyana carefully constructed a mental shield around that thought. There was no need for her Master to know Leyana was having a reoccurring nightmare. Unlike her apprentice, Shara didn't place much faith in dreams or visions, but Leyana felt there was always some kind of message in the subconscious. This dream, she thought, was a kind of warning, something, perhaps, she couldn't prevent. It would explain why the dream was always the same, why she could never change its direction.

"Do you think the mission will go smoothly?"  she asked, afraid to linger in her thoughts.

Through the dimness, Shara looked pensive. "I hope so," she said finally. "But I have a feeling something unexpected might happen, and not a good unexpected either." Leyana nodded, absorbing the information. Her Master didn't usually take much notice of unexplained feelings, so when she did Leyana had learned to listen.

"I hope you're wrong," she whispered, knowing from past experience that it was unlikely.

Shara nodded gravely. "So am I Padawan. But let us not dwell on that which we do not understand. I think the most important thing right now is for us both to be refreshed and alert for tomorrow."

Leyana nodded and lay back onto the cool, white sheets. She waited, listening to the night sounds around her, as her Master's breathing became slower and steadier, signalling sleep. Her eyes turned to the night sky, tracing the intricate patterns the stars cast against the black.

"The Alayarey System," she whispered. "Lowlen's Point. The Infrad Galaxy." Her eyelids began to droop. "Elexir's Moons. The Greenbelt Constellation. Reginon's System. The Lucicrey…" Her voice trailed off as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Outside the stars shone still and unmoving, the quiet before the storm.

***

A single figure cloaked in black slipped over the high stone wall. Landing safely on the padded lawn below, it moved swiftly across the grounds, approaching the huge, mansion-like house with stealth.

It stopped. It listened.

Silence.

The figure crept forward, blending with the night time shadows, almost invisible as it withdrew a small, square package from under its clothing. It laid the package gently on the grand doorstep, then flew back across the lawns and up the wall, resting on the top, gazing back at the house.

Silently it held up one gloved hand, showing all five fingers. The thumb came down into the palm of the hand, then the index finger, then the middle, followed by the ring and finally the last.

For a second there was silence, then the black fist was illuminated as the house behind it exploded into the night sky.

***