Qui-Gon cut off the engine to the speeder and guided it carefully behind a craggy gray boulder, settling it on a bed of air. The fine, steady mist which had been dampening his beard since he had left the palace had thickened to a soft rain, making everything slippery and damp. The southern slopes were steep, the landscape carved into ridges and grooves by the erosion, and had large boulders dotting the surface. Above him, gray buntings of clouds shrouded the sun away from its natural berth, and the gritty earth beneath his supple leather boots was muddy and hard to get a grip on. Between the large, rain-slicked boulders, there was a ribbon or two of fresh green grass which grew hardily in the rocky soil, the stout blades pressed flat from the pressure of the rain. He exerted almost no effort to strengthen his connection to the Force, sharpening his senses and aiding his footholds in the slippery mountainside. It was tempting to merely sit here and attempt to meditate, because there was an unbelievable amount of emotions he had to untangle and decipher, but the mission was his first priority. His training had him well instructed – emotions were not to get in the way of duty. The mission came first, then Obi-Wan, then others, then himself, and then – finally – his emotions. As for now, he needed to discover the hideout of this bandit, the Mockingbird. As the climb got steeper, he began using his hands to haul himself on ledges and over jutting shelves of rock, following the Force. He was getting an insistent tugging to work his way towards the top of the slope.
There was a high-pitched, rasping snarl to his left, and he froze.
Slowly, he turned, taking great care to seem surprised, and his gaze settled on a queer looking creature. It was long and sleek, roughly the size of a large dog, and built with sleek, streamlined edges. Tiny, iridescent scales overlapped and created a bright multicolored hide which caught the dim light, despite the dreariness of the surroundings. A pair of weird, shifting eyes the color of a new moon regarded him cautiously, and curved claws clicked for purchase on the wet rock it was standing on. It seemed to be an aquatic animal – it had a thick, rudder-like tail, narrow nostrils, and webbing between its long, agile toes. Yet it moved with agility and dexterity on land, and it seemed lethally dangerous. It snarled again, the high, grating sound rippling the shiny muzzle and revealing double rows of tiny, sharp, white teeth. For a moment, neither of them moved, and then Qui-Gon sent out a tentative Force suggestion, reassuring the beast that it would not be hurt. It hissed, much like a cornered snake, and snapped its wiry jaws abruptly, sinewy muscles going taut. Evidently, the creature was not leaving without a fight. It took another, much stronger, Force suggestion to convince the creature to leave the rock and scamper away. It did so very reluctantly, hissing a good many times and baring its gleaming white teeth behind it. Slowly, the Jedi Knight followed the bizarre looking creature, cresting the slope a good deal slower and with less gracefulness than the light, streamlined animal. After getting his robes quite muddy and when he was cold to the bone, he was at the top of the slope and had a magnificent view of the surrounding countryside.
The country looked lush from this far up – a veil of green shaded with charcoal gray rock. Clouds hung low and swollen, seemingly close enough to touch, edges sharply defined by the water they carried. Nearby, a dark pond was fed by a sluggish, choked gray stream, and there appeared to be an entire colony of those strange animals there. It must have been their nesting season, for there seemed to be a lot of pups swimming in the pond, burrowing in the mud and splashing each other with long tails. The mothers were built wider and thicker than the males, who were slender and sleek, and had flippers for back feet. They seemed to be a highly active race, and it did not take much for Qui-Gon to realize they were beautiful. Flashing, sparkling, jeweled creatures nesting and building their lives in the dreary pond, their slick rainbow hides bright with water.
"Beautiful, aren't they, Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon felt the presence even before they had spoke, but the abruptness of the sensation took him aback. How the person behind him had managed to appear to suddenly was a mystery, and yet the Jedi Knight showed absolutely no sign of surprise. "Indeed they are," He said quietly. "What are they?"
"They are Kasps, or 'shiny death' in the Daals' tongue," The voice continued. "And they are aptly named, for if one of them bites you, you shall be reduced to a gibbering moron within an hour and dead within two. Not many people have seen them and survived – the ones which have usually slaughter them for their hides."
"And why have you not been killed by these Kasps?" Qui-Gon inquired lightly. "Unless you are also harvesting their skins?"
"Never," The voice continued, an icy note frosting his words. "And it does not take much to treat an animal with respect. Respect them and they shall extend the same courtesy to you, especially intelligent creatures like Kasps. They used to be the pets of royalty, you know."
"Really," Qui-Gon said, and then turned. Sitting before him, lounged on a rock, was a sleek, lithe looking man dressed very simply. A pair of dark leggings clung to long, slender legs, and a gray tunic held close to his muscled arms and chest. Several knives were belted to his waist, and a flexible bow was belted to his back, along with a long poniard strapped to his arm. A shock of golden hair fell into a pair of brilliant blue eyes, and a pale cowl covered the bottom of his face, masking him cleverly. Although his mouth was hidden, Qui-Gon detected a smirk in his voice.
"Master Jinn, I must admit I am impressed. You not only braved the poisonous Kasps, but also the frigid Daal destined to take the throne. Zeijkk is a horrible child, is she not?" The Mockingbird asked, almost cheerfully.
"I believe she has her flaws, as we all do," Qui-Gon said slowly. "And I do not believe she will be the best ruler for Daluba. But I am not here to decide the planet's politics – I am here to see that you do not attempt to harm the Princess in any way."
"I do not intend to harm the Princess," The Mockingbird chuckled derisively. "No, she's much too fun to keep around, what with her tantrums and her screaming and her fits of rage. No, I intend to stop the wedding – because I do not believe she is the right ruler for Daluba either."
"And who is the right ruler?" Qui-Gon asked.
The Mockingbird wagged a finger. "Sly, Jinn, quite sly, but you won't be getting my endorsement yet. No, I allowed you to come this far because I want to send you scampering back to the Princess with a message."
"And?" Qui-Gon said evenly.
"Tell Zeijkk that she has a month to cancel the wedding and forget her usurping plans. Tell her that if she does not cancel her wedding, I shall ensure that everyone she holds dear to her shall die, slowly and painfully. I will not see an ally of mine shackled to that silver-eyed harlot in matrimony – and I will not see him disregarded the instant she is in power. Tell Zeijkk that if she goes through with this wedding, I shall be waging war on Daluba – and I am a terrible man to have as an enemy, Master Jinn."
"I do not doubt that," Qui-Gon murmured quietly. "I shall deliver your message, Mockingbird."
The Mockingbird bared his teeth in a quick, fierce grimace, despite it being hidden under his cowl. "Oh, and by the way – your Padawan is terrible at interrogation. He wields a wooden staff far better than his questions."
"His training is still underway," Qui-Gon pointed out, smiling in spite of himself. For some reason, he did not feel threatened by the Mockingbird. There was no intent to hurt, despite his harmful words. "And he has much to learn, despite his eagerness."
"Mm," The Mockingbird muttered. "Oh, and Jinn?" He called. "Keep an eye on Guardian Walker – she's not who you think she is."
With a puff of smoke, he vanished before Qui-Gon's very eyes.
"Guardian Walker, I believe we got off to the wrong start."
It was almost impossible not to like him. But Ana managed it anyway – it happened to be a talent of hers. He was cute, however, with those unruly spikes sticking up in all directions, big blue eyes so brimming with innocence and fragile destiny. The Padawan robes fitted him snugly, as if he were teetering on the cusp of a growth spurt, and judging by the way he had been packing it away during Evening Meal, he was about to shoot up another five inches. "Guardian Walker, I would really like to talk about my Master," He continued, big eyes wide and earnest. "The two of you know each other, I can sense it."
Ana tossed her digi-pad aside and looked up at him irritably, forest green eyes dark and her lips twisted in a scowl. "You are cursedly curious, aren't you?"
A quick flash of a smile. "It has been known as a fault of mine, Guardian."
"It is none of your business, Padawan, whether or not I knew your Master in a previous life," Ana snapped. "If you do not believe what I am saying, then you evidently need more training."
Obi-Wan seemed unperturbed by the insult, and instead frowned slightly. "Guardian, were you trained as a Jedi?"
Damn, her reflexes were getting slow. Just a momentary flicker away from his eyes, a little drop in her voice in her denial. He knew she was lying. "No. I saw no reason to be trained."
She felt his Force suggestion layer his words, felt the probe against her emotions. "Are you sure, Guardian Walker?"
"Oh, let me think," Ana began rudely. "Where was I for the first twenty years of my life? In a temple? I don't think so. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go tend to my charge." She growled, and swept off. Obi-Wan watched her go, his blue eyes bright and half-lidded as he thought. Oh, she was a terrible liar. Truly terrible. He sat down on the thick, plush divan she had been lying on, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His Master had not contacted him since he had left, and he had been watching the comlink carefully, making sure he did not miss the flashing red light. It worried him when his Master took off on his own like this – a sensible Jedi would have stayed near the Princess at all times, making sure of her protection. But Master Jinn just bullied his way right into the thick of things. How brave, Obi-Wan thought admiringly. Very, very brave.
The comlink flashed. With his eerie Jedi reflexes, Obi-Wan pounced on it.
"Master?" He asked, pressing on the receive button.
"Ah, Padawan, excellent," Qui-Gon's deep voice crackled over the comlink. "Have you heard any new information about the Mockingbird?"
"He once kidnapped a young boy by the name of Aja," Obi-Wan reported quickly. "Although it seems as though Aja is a friend of this Mockingbird, to tell the truth. He insists that the Mockingbird isn't going to harm the Princess, just plans to stop the wedding. And Her Highness isn't disturbed, she believes that the Mockingbird is a coward."
"He is no coward," Qui-Gon said grimly. "He threatened any person close to her if she goes through with the wedding. I also believe he is an ally with the Princess's betrothed. And he has an inside informant in the palace."
Obi-Wan mulled this over for a moment, and then answered. "What does he look like, Master?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Blonde, slightly built, tall, a medium sized scar on his left wrist, carries himself with great pride. He has a cultured tone about his voice, elegant and careful – he might have been born royalty. And he has a taste for the theatrical – if this entire thing turns out to be a ploy for attention, I shall not be surprised."
"I think it's more than that, Master," Obi-Wan said. "If he is threatening her family and friends, I believe he is quite serious."
"And I as well," Qui-Gon said slowly. After a moment, he said, "Obi-Wan, did you speak with the Princess's Guardian today?"
"Guardian Walker? Yes, I did. Was I not supposed to?" Obi-Wan asked, wincing a little. Technically, he hadn't been specifically forbidden, but he hadn't been told to interrogate her either. And he wasn't asking her questions about the Mockingbird, just personal questions. His Master might not be too pleased about that.
"Keep an eye on her," Qui-Gon said quietly. "Until I return. There is something we need to speak about – the three of us."
A/N: Wow, I'm tired. Exhausted, actually. I had a rough draft of this chapter which was waaaay better, but my idiot roommate deleted it accidentally, so I had to write this whole thing in like half an hour. Please excuse any typos. Oh, and guess what? Syrtis is working on more fanart! So there shall be more coming up! Yay!
Questions: What will Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Ana talk about? Will their differences ever be resolved? Is the Mockingbird doing this as an attention stunt, or is he serious?
