A/N: Hello dear ones! I am so sorry for this late posting - I actually missed our week-end date for the first time in months, and I apologize! Unfortunately, work is catching up... and I'm afraid that it is only going to become worse as we come closer to the end of the summer - things are not really getting slower in the practice, and we are already beginning to resume our university obligations, so... all this to say that I left poor Obi down for quite a while. I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep our weekly dates, but I dearly hope so - strangely I'm often more productive when there's more going on, so do not despair (haha, as if you would...), I'll try my best :).

Aaaanyway. Sorry for the cliffhanger last fortnight, it was an easy writing-weapon :). And thank you all for your reviews, that are beyond precious to me - I'll really try to answer them all very soon! More in the ending notes, and enjoy I hope, Meysun.

Storms on Pijal (Stars of the Darkest Night)

A Star Wars Fanfiction by Meysun

Chapter Four: Visions.

.

But if I had the stars of the darkest night / And the diamonds from the deepest ocean / I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss / For that's all I'm wishing to be owning

.

Pijal.

.

Thrumming. Trickling down his face. Thundering through his very being.

A storm – raging above him, and through him, so fierce the Force itself seemed askew, and it hurt. It hurt badly.

Obi-Wan heard himself moan, and instinctively tried to reach out through the Force to assess his surroundings, because he was unable to open his eyes and to remember what happened.

However, the second he tried to channel his thoughts and energy towards the Cosmic Force, he found himself retching with unpreceded violence, the acid smell briefly overpowering the sense of earth and pine and rain.

Each heave seamed to split his head open, yet Obi-Wan somehow managed to recover, leaning heavily on his right hand as his stomach rebelled. Something kept trickling down his cheek, through his hairline and down his neck, but he was absolutely unable to do anything but close his eyes and ride the pain out, feeling his body begin to shiver.

Something was missing.

Someone.

"Master…?", Obi-Wan whispered, once the retching finally relented. "S… Satine?"

He shuddered, right hand fisting into the muddy soil, feeling earth and pine needles dig into his palm.

Pine needles.

There were no pines on Mandalore. Even less on Draboon.

Obi-Wan pitched forward, and resumed retching, because he was not on Mandalore, he was not on Coruscant, he was back on Stewjon, surely, because pine trees and hurt and scared and alone…

He had not been alone on Stewjon, though – and that thought made him frown as he coughed his way through his fading nausea. Frowning seemed to aggravate the slow trickle that kept bothering him, and in the end, Obi-Wan just reached out with the one hand he seemed able to move, until he found solid bark and was able to lean against what could only be a trunk, shivering with exhaustion and pain.

He had yet to open his eyes, and quickly realised he couldn't. Opening his eyes seemed just as impossible as staying awake, right now, not with the Force and the world storming around him and his head feeling like broken clay…

His fingers curled around what seemed to be a root, where he could feel the faintest Force-brush, and then Obi-Wan sank back into the heavy, stormy darkness that was raging around him.

He woke up because of rain that was definitely trickling down his face, causing him to cough lightly, pain erupting in his head and chest – yet it wasn't as bad as before, and he managed to open his eyes, blinking at the sky.

It was dark, and for the briefest moment Obi-Wan wondered if he had opened his eyes at all, but then he saw a ray of moonlight, and realised a few stars were flickering through the storm clouds.

His hand was still curled around the pine's root, and another one was digging against his lower back, gentle Force thrums coursing through his body – Obi-Wan realised he must have been lucky enough to encounter a Force-node, because he felt a bit less battered now. Almost able to think.

What had happened to him? And where was Qui-Gon?

Obi-Wan's right hand moved towards his belt and he let out a heavy sigh when he felt the comforting weight of his lightsaber. Fine. At least he was not unarmed – and he could not remember fighting against someone. Not in a duel, at least…

His hand moved towards his brow – because his head hurt. Badly.

Something sticky met his fingertips and they came away stained – Obi-Wan realised then that his tunic was in tatters, mottled with dark spots that could only be blood. It wasn't too much, though, and Obi-Wan took a few deep breaths, trying to channel the gentle Force-current he could feel under his hand and beneath his back towards himself.

A concussion. That's why it's so hard to think. I need to assess my body, though. I need to get up.

He could feel himself tremble, but he was good with the Cosmic Force. He had always been. He loved trees, and flowers, and every plant – even Valentine, because Valentine was… Valentine was just like Satine. She bit and bickered and hurt – but she had soothed his fever when he was weak and helpless, she had made him survive and deep down, Obi knew she loved him.

Focus.

With an effort, Obi-Wan pulled his thoughts from the slow spiral they had begun to draw and tried to come back to the tree and the Force and the rain above him.

You are the roots below me. The shade and shelter above me. The nurturing rain falling down on me. The earth cradling me. I am grateful for You. I feel You around me. Please take me back into Your current, please make it flow through me as well. I love You. I need You. I abandon myself into Your arms.

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.

His words were just a whisper, barely heard between the rain and thunder – but their stream never wavered, until the rain relented, turning into faint drizzle as the wind rose.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, finally feeling like they were realigned with his vision once more. The pain was still pounding against his skull, but he was able to think and to release its nauseating waves into the Force.

The night was dark around him now, but his eyes quickly adjusted to the shadows, and they helped with his head – Obi-Wan was soon able to assess his body, still leaning against the trunk.

His lower left ribs were cracked, and one of them at least was broken, but they did not shift under his hands. Likewise, his left wrist was fractured, and his elbow probably sprained, but the bones seemed in place – he just had to use his obi as a sling and he would be fine. His back was bruised, but he could move it, and he must have managed to protect his stomach and gut, because there was no injury and no tenderness there. There were deep cuts on his legs, but no serious wound, and his hips and knees seemed uninjured. His left ankle however felt swollen and painful, but his boot was acting as a sprain and in the end Obi-Wan decided against taking it off. It would probably make the swelling worse, and he needed to move.

Something heavy tumbled down the branches above him, and Obi-Wan instantly fell back into a defensive Soresu stance, lightsaber bright and burning beneath his cheek.

It was nothing but a heavy, rubbery mass of something looking like a broken, deflated parachute, and Obi coughed, lightly, switching off his weapon, leaning against the trunk once more.

Soresu, really?

"Shut it, Quin", Obi-Wan muttered. "I need to think."

It was hard, though, with legs suddenly feeling like rubber and sweat breaking out as his head began to spin. Obi-Wan let himself sink back on the ground with a sigh and closed his eyes once more.

Master, where are you? I need you… I don't… I don't feel so good…

He was trembling, now, because that parachute reminded him of something horrible, of terror and fire and falling down, down, down, way too fast and way too close to the trees… Someone… Someone had shot at them, and they had… they had jumped, because Obi-Wan had missed the starfighter firing at them, they had jumped and now… now he was unable to feel his Master through their training bond – and Qui-Gon had always answered, always, always, even when he had been captive on Draboon and when Obi-Wan and Satine had managed to storm the bounty-hunters' lair to free him.

Master please don't be gone… Don't be…

He did not want to think the word, though, and tried to still his quivers, like Qui-Gon would have wanted, because his Master was wary of Fear and its deceiving ways.

Focus. Try to think.

His head hurt, but his bond was… his bond did not feel broken or rooted out. It was just mute – silent, and the silence was frightening, making him cold and so lonely and helpless he felt almost like a youngling. But he was no youngling anymore, and if Qui-Gon's side of the bond was mute, then only three possibilities remained.

His Master was either dead – and Obi-Wan would not believe that until he held Qui-Gon's body against him and until he had tried every possible Force-node to revive him – or he was unconscious. And if he was neither, then it meant something was blocking Qui-Gon's projections in the Force. Then it meant someone was holding his Master captive.

And this, combined with the welcoming they had just received, made most sense, and the fact that Obi-Wan was lingering there like a broken string-puppet dangerous and stupid.

He was glad Qui-Gon had not heard him whimpering through their bond like that – his Master had enough on his plate already, with him making them both go to Pijal with his blunders and…

Pijal.

That was were they were headed. Pijal, where Princess Fanry was battling Czerka Corporation, but where a rebellion had taken over. Pijal, where Master Averross had called Qui-Gon for help.

That's what I need to do. I need to find Master Averross – he will know where and how to search for Qui-Gon. And he'll know who tried to bring us down.

"I need to move", Obi-Wan whispered.

And so, finally, he pulled himself together and back on his feet. He used his lightsaber to cut through the rubbery fabric of the parachute's remains and managed to wrap up a crude sling for his arm. The parachute was made of dark material, and as such, would not be easily spotted by a search party – Obi-Wan simply folded it the best he could and left it near the trunk.

He placed his palm against the bark, quietly thanking the tree for the shelter and bracing it had provided him, and then Obi-Wan started to walk, limping through the pines as quickly as he could, soon vanishing between the trunks.

The wind was cold now, and Obi-Wan pulled his hood down, dragging his cloak around his body. It was damp, torn and stained – quite a shameful sight, surely – but he still was grateful to shield himself, trying to remember what he had read about Pijal.

The planet was rather small, and the forest had covered a lot of ground, before Czerka had begun to fell the trees and to produce coal on Pijal itself. The remaining trees stretched on the western side of the capital, and were presumably the place where the Pijali rebels hid.

One more reason to stay careful.

Obi-Wan walked for what was likely a couple of hours, and then he realised a few numbers of things. One was that his ankle would not bear him for much longer, because it was barely able to take his weight. The second was that he needed to find shelter quickly, because the wind was picking up along with his shivers. And finally, that the forest unfortunately did not seem to end, pine trees stretching before him like an ocean.

"Spheres…", Obi-Wan whispered, wiping at his brow that was still oozing blood sluggishly.

The Pijali had been one of the most ancient civilizations who had tried to travel through space, worshipping what most planets would later call the Force. Back then however, space-travelling was even more dangerous than it seemed to be now, and the Pijali had built rounded forts used for watching over their spherical starships. Most of them were deserted now, but these places had been sacred, the Force strong within them. They had been built on high places, as close to the sky as possible – on places ideal for stargazing, and also surveying the ground.

If Obi-Wan wanted to find shelter, rest and a way to assess his surroundings, the best thing was to find one of these forts. He just had to channel his strength and focus on the Force's currents – he just had to follow the thread where the Force was strongest…

Obi-Wan forced himself to straighten, cradling his broken arm against him. The wind pushed back his hood and he did not try to pull it back on, closing his eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to assess the Force beneath his feet and around him.

Shelter, you seek.

"I do…"

Weary, you are.

"I am…"

See clearly, you wish?

"I… I trust in You."

Obi's voice was hoarse – he did not really know why he was answering aloud, especially to that Voice that sounded a lot like Master Yoda in his head, he just knew it was the right thing to do. And when his feet started to move, almost of their own volition, Obi-Wan just stumbled along, eyes barely open, in a state not unlike the sleepwalking that had marked his childhood.

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.

He came back to himself when his foot caught a stone, making him stumble as pain erupted in his ankle. By then, Obi was too weak to keep his balance, and fell hard on his knees, stretching out his hand to protect his left wrist. His palm met dust and hard stone, and the impact rang through his skull, causing his eyes to close tightly and his stomach to rebel once more – but Obi-Wan had nothing left to retch up, and was soon able to recover, gazing up at the ruins rising before him.

He had found them. Now he just had to climb.

The Force was strong, pulsing around him and in the ruins, Obi could feel it – it thrummed through his chest, and so he decided to be bold, and ask a bit more of the Force.

Around me.

His quiet plead was not unanswered, and the Force wrapped itself around his back, pushing him up, and steadying him as he rose and walked once more, straight up to the fort.

He found white ruins raising around a circular stone floor, made of high walls where the arrowslits of the past were still visible. Obi-Wan slowly limped towards one of them and peered through the narrow stone-opening, assessing the view below him. And then, tiredly, he smiled, resting his brow against the stone.

The Pijal capital city was rising a few miles ahead, on the east, where dawn would soon break. He just had to wait for the night to end, and walk towards the sunrise.

"Drop your weapon, rise your arms and turn around slowly."

My head is mush. I am mush.

Obi-Wan allowed himself a few seconds to taste the full viciousness of his thoughts – cursing the crash, the concussion and above all himself – and then he forced himself to release them into the Force, letting out a slow, deep, breath, before turning around.

He raised his right arm, leaning against the wall because he did not trust his ankle, facing a dozen of dark, hooded silhouettes clustered around a thin, tall woman that seemed to be their leader.

Her face was dark, her hair as well, and she had fierce, very dark eyes. Her Force-signature burned hot and red, but Obi-Wan did not sense true evil in her – but wariness, anger, and fight, that abated a tiny bit as she took him in.

"Stars, what happened to you, Jedi?", she snorted, blaster still pointed straight at his chest. "Jamal here thought he'd heard someone retch, but I confess I did not believe him. I was expecting something rather more daunting than some sick, beaten up child. How the mighty have fallen, I guess…

- My apologies for not raising the other arm", Obi-Wan quipped. "I can make it up though - and give you the finger."

The woman stared at him for a heartbeat, and then, suddenly, unexpectedly, she let out a warm, low laugh, letting down her hood.

"Want to flip me the bird, kid? What kind of a Jedi are you? Besides a young, injured one? Sit down, before you pass out. Sit down, kid."

One instant, Obi-Wan was staring at her, defiantly, and the other he was being leaned against the stone wall, the woman stripping him deftly of his cloak, careful not to jostle his arm, placing a cool cloth against his head.

"Stars, kid… The wound on your skull is the size of my palm…

- I'pologize didn't mean t'be rude to you…."

The coolness felt wonderful against his skin – but it also seemed to leech out his strength, he could feel himself begin to sag, words tumbling out of his mouth unchecked.

"This needs to be closed. Like in now. And your wrist needs tending too. And that ankle… Stars, don't tell me you walked on this, kid."

Obi-Wan looked at his feet in dismay, that were bare now that someone had pulled of his boots. His left ankle had become quite the sphere indeed, swelling to the size of a small orange through his sock.

"We were supposed to camp here anyway. Jamal here is our self-proclaimed medic. He'll close the nick on your skull, and wrap your ankle and wrist. Then we'll see what we do with you, in the morning.

- I think he is concussed", Jamal said, kneeling next to Obi-Wan, who realised looking at his blue skin that he was a Pantoran. "His pupils do not focus, and his brow feels hot. Have you been sick, kid? Do you feel like throwing up?

- Not 'nymore."

Obi just felt cold, and exhausted. The Force around him was quiet, and he was almost sure that none of these people would hurt him, so he allowed Jamal to test his brow and move his neck. Until the man tried to shine a light into his very eyes, causing Obi to Force-project the small lamp a few feet away, dry-heaving into Jamal's lap.

"Easy, easy, easy… Hmm, you're definitely injured, kid. I'll close that impressive nick on your skull, and then you'll sleep, alright?

- Did you… see my Master?", Obi-Wan whispered. "He's… tall. Much taller than I am. He's not… going to be rude. He's just… rude with the Council.

- Shh, kid. At ease, lad."

Obi felt arms around him, and then a sharp, burning on his skull, at least twelve times, like insects biting him, but he wasn't afraid. The Force was very clear here, and it shone light green through Jamal, like a peaceful beacon – it made him smile, softly, and it made Jamal chuckle as he wrapped his ankle in blessedly cool bandages, doing the same for his wrist.

"Feels good, eh, kid? It's not Bacta, though, just plain old alcohol, but it will help with the swelling.

- He's so out of it…", the woman said. "He keeps smiling at you like you're the moon or something.

- Maybe I am, eh, little Jedi? What's your name, anyway?

- Obi-Wan", Obi whispered. "Obi-Wan Kenobi.

- Well, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I'll make you lie down, alright? You can rest your head on my lap. It doesn't leak anymore."

Jamal had the same wrinkles as Madame Nu, around his eyes, and it made Obi-Wan feel even more safe.

"Someone… someone shot our ship", Obi whispered. "It wasn't you, was it? You feel good in the Force. All green.

- All green, eh? No, little one. We did not shoot at you. The only ones we tried to bring down were those kriffheads from Czerka Corporation.

- And that Fanry bitch. I'm going to bring her down myself", the dark-haired woman spat out, and Obi-Wan had a start, feeling Jamal's hand card through his hair, soothingly.

"Shh… We are rebels, not murderers. We fight against slavery. We do not kill, because every Pijali deserves it all.

- Not every Pijali, Jamal. That horrid bitch played us all. She doesn't give a damn for slavery, all she wants is the power.

- Is it… true? She did not… free the slaves?"

Obi-Wan turned his face towards her, with an effort, because his body was heavy and because sleep was tugging hard at his mind.

"Oh no. And I can tell you about it. I was with her, on the Leverage. And if I, and some of the Righteous' crew, Jamal here included, had not rebelled, those slaves would have exploded and become space-fodder.

- You know… Princess Fanry. Do you… do you know Master – Master Averross as well? I need… I need to find him. Is this fort far… away from him?"

She stayed silent, for a while, gazing inwards.

"This is no fort, kid. It is a Celestial Watchtower. A sacred place, where ancient Pijali used to look out for those brave enough to set out. We have fallen very low. Myself included. But no more."

Obi-Wan's hand spread on the floor, palm meeting the rough stone. A Watchtower. He remembered it now. He had read about them.

"The Force is… very powerful here."

He had begun to shiver, slightly, and the woman covered him with his tattered cloak, gently placing his injured arm above it.

"Can you feel it, kid?"

Obi-Wan nodded – at least, tried to, aborting the move with a wince.

"Yes. It is… going to help me recover. I'll be… stronger tomorrow. I promise. Thank you for… helping me.

- Well, you're a Jedi, are you not? You're supposed to bear witness of what you see. And the fact that Fanry distrusts you is enough to make me want to help you, I can assure you.

- You… feel strongly about her."

Lying down helped channelling his thoughts, and Obi-Wan felt, somehow, that the woman was inclined to talk. So he talked back, quietly, feeling Jamal's hand card through his hair, testing his training bond every once in a while, but always finding it mute.

Hang on, Master. I will find you, I promise. There's light everywhere here, despite the darkness.

"Oh yes, I do. I grew up with her."

That made Obi-Wan frown, and the woman smile bitterly.

"I am five years older, but I still grew up with her. I was her servant, you see, but Fanry always called me her sister. And that's why I trusted her. When she said it was time to rise, I believed her. When she told me that Pijal was corrupt, just like the Republic was, because Czerka controlled it all, included the Senate and the Jedi Council, and that it was time to refuse their dominion and rebel, I believed her. I let her stab the Skykeeper, during her coronation, in an act of defiance. I did not move to help that poor man, unlike Master Averross, I do not even know if he survived. And when she ran, towards the Righteous, claiming it was time to destroy Czerka and its ships, I cheered. Only when I saw what she was determined not to do, did I see clearly. And now, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I rebel. I rebel against Czerka, against my queen and her guards. Because I will no longer be a slave. I'll never be a slave anymore."

Her burning gaze never left his, features like dark, unmoving stones. And Obi-Wan shivered, once more, but he did not lower his eyes and moved his hand, palm facing the sky.

"No one should be a slave", he whispered. "Least of all to power or slogans. I am sorry for what you went through."

She did not move, for several seconds. And then, hesitantly, Obi-Wan felt her fingers clasp his.

"Do you think… do you think that Force of yours could forgive me, for standing by while one of its servants was stabbed? The Skykeeper… he's a sacred man."

Obi-Wan closed his fingers around hers.

"It is not my Force. And there is no sacred man or woman in the Force, because we are all sacred. But what… what my teachers and Masters told me is… that if you truly regret your deeds, then you are already treading the path of forgiveness. Because it means you are already better than the person you were committing those. The hardest thing… the hardest thing is to forgive oneself, and live on – but the Force rejoices in seeing us grow. Always."

Obi-Wan could feel it thrum, quietly, under his prone body, making him shiver under his damp cloak. The woman stayed silent, for a long time, and then she placed Obi's hand on his chest, folding his fingers softly.

"You are a young Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi. But you definitely have a way with words. Don't lose that. And try to sleep, now. You need rest."

Obi let out a long, quiet sigh and closed his eyes.

"You didn't tell me", he whispered, realizing he was unable to name her. "I know your Force-signature, but not your name…

- Oh is that so? And what am I, pitch black?"

Her voice was teasing, but with his eyes closed, it was so easy to read her pain.

"You are bright red. Like fire. Like life", he whispered. "Like a… volcano.

- Funny, then, that my name is Cady. Because it only means hillock."

Her voice was soft, but as she spoke her name, something thrummed through Obi-Wan's very core, causing his eyes to flow open and his whole body to tremble. He looked at her, at her dark face and dark eyes and found it strange to see her also dressed in black and white – like a body mingling with its shadow-body, like woman melting into man.

I'm ready, General.

That rough voice meant safety and backup and friendship and the fierce ache of fighting for equal rights, but Obi was no General, he was a Jedi and just a Padawan and that male voice did not make sense, nor did the fierce mixture of care and fear and hope and loss because that man, that man…

"Cody?", Obi-Wan whispered, feeling tears rise up in his eyes, causing the stars to blur and fade into the images rising before his eyes.

"Hey, kid… Kiddo… Don't weep, not now…

- Cody… Cody, don't shoot me, don't do this, don't lose yourself like that…

- Who's Cody, kid? No one is going to shoot you, I promise… My name is Cady, Obi-Wan… Cady. Like a hillock. Like that Watchtower. Cady, little Jedi.

- Cady…", Obi-Wan whispered, feeling the Force surf back, like a wave, leaving him drained, struggling to remember the very images that had caused his tears to rise. "Cady Hillock.

- That's a nice nickname, kid. Makes her sound softer than she is", Jamal rumbled, quietly. "Now sleep. Let that fever go down, little one."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes once more, obediently, and soon drifted off to sleep – but his dreams were troubled and feverish, the Force whispering on and on through his very mind.

Cody. Cody… No number. A name. Watch out for the Number, protect the Name…

No slave. No Skykeeper – but very close. Watch out for the Sky in the Slave…

"Cady, he's burning up. He needs proper treatment.

- Don't you have any fever-reducers left?

- I do, but… I'm not sure it's the best idea, with his concussion…

- As you said, Jamal. He's burning up, you don't want him to fry his brain, do you? That kid jumped from a burning plane, if we got it right… And did you see what he did with your lamp? He's tough, Jamal. He's going to pull through.

- Fine, Cady. But tomorrow, we will have to bring him to the city and Master Averross.

- I think that's where he is headed anyway.

- There, kid. Drink."

The words around Obi-Wan barely made sense, but he obediently swallowed the water, allowing Jamal to slide a pill between his lips. He let himself be held into the Pantoran's arms, sitting up – and the Force calmed its raging through his body as soon as his back left the ground.

Obi sighed, burying his face into Jamal's shoulder, and slept on, without any dreams or visions this time, his fever and the ache in his head ebbing as the drug kicked in.

The sun was rising and Obi-Wan drenched in sweat when he woke up, still tucked up in Jamal's arms.

"How do you feel, kid?", the man asked, quietly, and Obi-Wan assessed his body through the Force, finding that he felt still weak, but that his wounds had begun to heal, the concussion especially.

"Better", he whispered.

"You were quite sick, tonight. Drink some water. It will make you feel even better. Hungry?

- Not really", Obi sighed, but he still accepted the dried bread Jamal handed him, because his body needed something, not just the Force.

Once more, he probed his bond, and once more, he was met with silence.

But as the sun rose and the men around Jamal and Cady began to stir, Obi-Wan promised the Force that he would try to find Qui-Gon, and help Pijal finding peace once more.

Now, however, he needed to find Master Averross. And finally meet this Princess Fanry surrounded by so much hatred and distrust.

Obi-Wan leant back against the ramparts, and watched the sun throw its bright-red rays through the arrowslits, drawing starshaped lines on the Watchtower's stone floor.

Hang on, Master. I will find you, I promise.

And under Obi-Wan's feet, quietly, the Force thrummed.

A/N: Sooo, no Qui-Gon here yet, because he's the one who's missing, not our dear Obi... I wanted to write the Apprentice rescuing the Master, for once! I have many ideas for him, but you know me now, nothing is set in stone yet, so... no spoilers :). This chapter was perhaps more of a 'pause' but believe me, it's needed for the world-building on Pijal. Jamal belongs to me, but Cady is in the original story - and *of course* I had to notice just how similar her name was to our dear Cody, and use it for foreshadowing and angst... Now, for those wondering why Obi is so "open/emotional", these are actually side-effects of severe concussions, as is throwing up and sometimes fever, that is why I tried to write him less shielded and also waay mor confused... Poor Obi. He's a bit better now, though, and of course, he's making friends :).

I wonder what you think about Cady... and also, if you don't want to throttle me yet for still *not* writing Fanry and Rael Averross : they are turning up in the next chapter, I promise! Thank you for reading, and... rest assured, the next chapter is going to be written as soon as possible. I'll post on Sunday, though - unless the Force should truly be with me. In the meantime, I hope you are all well, I send you a warm hug and much love! Take care, Meysun.