He hardly slept.
The sleeping couch was suddenly very lumpy, and the sheets too coarse, despite the silkiness of the texture and the lushness of the pillows. But it was suddenly very large and empty, very cold and impersonal, lacking in warmth and heat. He knew what his body desired, knew what it wanted at this moment. He wanted to be lying next to Ana, next to the cool-blooded, green-eyed woman who had battled hard with her grief and almost overcome it. He wanted to feel the velvet of her skin, run his fingers through her dark curls, skim her hidden valleys with his fingertips and explore the contours of her body. He ached with wanting. At first, he tried to dispel his feelings into the Force, to relax his mind and body so he could sleep. Surely, he would think more clearly in the morning. But just when he would drift off into a gentle layer of sleep, the scent of rainwater and damp greenery, two scents he always associated with Ana, would fill his body. He would jerk awake, and every fiber of his being would want to throw off the blankets and go to Ana's slumbering form. But he resisted, finding the calm sanctum that every Jedi Master obtains and controls.
There was one moment where he knew he had been asleep - how could he have woken up if he had not been asleep? And he sat upright in bed. The Force had rippled slowly, alerting him to a presence down the hallway. Someone was approaching their room. It could be nothing, merely an inquisitive servant dispatched to wake them up, but instinct told him it was not so. His keen ears pricked up when he heard the footsteps hurrying over the plush carpets; the cadence was too quick and uneven to be merely a servant sent to awaken two Jedis. He swung himself out of bed and his calloused fingers closed around his lightsaber, tensing his muscles as he waited. His thumb was on the activation trigger, waiting to see if a hostile was approaching. The hiss of a door opening alerted him to Ana's presence, and he could not resist turning slightly to enter her in his line of vision. She was beautiful when she just awoke, with her spiky cowlick sticking in all directions, green eyes sleepy and half-closed, lips pouting in a childish look of desire for more sleep. But today her face was bright and alert, and he suspected she had not slept much that night either. And her lightsaber was in her hand, carefully waiting until something moved.
Suddenly there was a hammering on the doorway, a loud rapping noise that startled both Master and Padawan. They sprang into action, lightsabers humming to life as they prowled before the doorway. Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "Come in." he commanded. His voice sent rivers of warmth down Ana's back, pooling heatedly in her legs and thighs. She shook her head slightly to clear it of any disrupting thoughts of Qui-Gon, and waited for the door to open. It could be anyone. It could be an assassin waiting to kill them. It could be a man with a poisoned drink in his hand. It could be…
Senator Bulgrasse.
He did not seem surprised that both Qui-Gon and Ana had their lightsabers drawn and identical looks of fierce concentration on their faces. Evidently, he had dealt with trigger-happy Jedis before. Instead, he marched into the room and threw himself down on Qui-Gon's unmade sleeping couch, settling himself down in the piles of pillows. "Bu-Taan is a damned fool," he announced angrily, his drawl thickening as he swigged from his hip flask. "He won't sign the damned treaty." Then he looked around, seeing the exasperated looks on Ana and Qui-Gon's faces. "What were ya'll expectin'? An army come tah kill you?"
"You startled us," Qui-Gon admitted, and sat down on the edge of his sleeping couch. Ana flicked off her lightsaber and clipped it onto her belt where it hung heavily on her hip like an old friend. She remained standing, but leaned up against the wall and folded her arms. It was ridiculously early, and she was not a morning person. She blinked hard and tried to impale the porky Senator with her own laser-stare-of-death, the one that Qui-Gon had perfected. Instead, she managed to make herself look tired and constipated all at once.
"Well, y'all are about to be more startled," Bulgrasse grumped, "'Cos that damned - pardon my language, missy - monarch ain't gonna sign nothin'. Even had the gall to throw me outta his room! The nerve!"
"Some people don't like being woken up at -" Ana checked the sun outside, which was barely peeking over the horizon and hadn't even risen over the majestic spires of downtown Iridonia yet, "- Six o'clock in the morning. It isn't unusual for people to sleep in, you know."
"Can't imagine why," Bulgrasse complained. "Everyone needs to get up 'n' start their day! Right, Qui-Gon?" he asked, elbowing the older Jedi with perhaps a shade too much force. The muscular Jedi shot the pudgy Senator a look of ultimate doom, and he wilted. "But mebbe you have a point, missy."
Ana yawned and stretched, catlike, against the wall, popping every ligament in her back and shoulders, then sighed. Qui-Gon did everything he could to restrain a low growl of appreciation. "Now that we're up, we might as well get something to eat," she said, then looked hopefully at Bulgrasse. "Have you already eaten?" she asked politely, praying he said yes. If he said no, it was practically a given that he would accompany them to breakfast, and she wanted to talk to Qui-Gon alone. They needed to continue the conversation they had been having last night. She had been replaying the entire scenario in her head all night, and she wanted to get a jumpstart on the day. Unfortunately, for her, Bulgrasse had other ideas.
"Hell no, missy, and it sounds like a mighty fine idea to go get some grub! Qui-Gon, are you joining me and this lovely lady for breakfast?" Bulgrasse asked, getting to his feet. Qui-Gon tried hard not to roll his eyes. The way Bulgrasse talked, it was as thought Qui-Gon was the stranger, not Bulgrasse. Ana seemed just as disappointed, but to her credit, she was trying to mask it well. They trooped out of the room and down the hallway, Bulgrasse talking animatedly about tax infringement and the skyrocketing prices of idonite, never slowing once. Qui-Gon, who had some experience in dealing with the loudmouthed Senator, put up a polite show of nodding and agreeing, giving every appearance that he was listening when in fact he was using every atom of his being not to appreciate the feminine sway of Ana's hips.
Bulgrasse was so busy talking, and Ana and Qui-Gon were so busy pretending to listen, that they didn't hear the telltale sounds of blaster fire until it was almost too late.
09
The main hall was a bloodbath. Ana and Qui-Gon had their lightsabers out and ready for action before anyone could blink, and Qui-Gon found himself deflecting blaster fire almost before his lightsaber was fully activated. The once-extravagant interior of the main hall had been completely torched, the rich tapestries still burning, the deep pile carpets covered with blood and filth. The bodies of guards and a few innocent magistrates were thrown here and there, some of them still bleeding slowly as the life faded from their eyes. Ana couldn't even tell where the blaster fire was coming from before she was striking angrily at the laser beams. Her dark green eyes slitted, catlike, as she tumbled a cartwheel across the room, flattening herself against the opposite wall. As she had performed his rather unnecessary maneuver, she had noticed who had been firing, her Jedi reflexes picking up details most others would overlook.
The five men and two women who had been firing were standing in a loose circle at the doorway, all of them bearing identical tattoos that spoke of their slavery. Illegal shockrifles were in their hands; the weapons had been outlawed years ago, mostly because the laser bullets didn't kill you; they ate fiercely through skin and living tissue and then festered there, like a hard nugget, until they were painfully extracted. They had been outlawed because of their usage; the Senate didn't want weapons that were designed for torture in the hands of Hutts. Qui-Gon met Ana's eyes, and they nodded once, briefly. "Stay here!" Qui-Gon snarled at Bulgrasse, who was cowering behind a pillar with his hands over his cowboy hat. The Jedi Knight and his Padawan leapt out from behind their cover, parrying the shockrifles harsh blows with their lightsabers.
It because plain in a matter of seconds that the slaves were relatively untrained, and had managed to kill so many merely because of the powerful element of surprise. After a moment or two, the tallest slave threw down his shockrifle. "All right, all right!" he whined. "Enough! Stop, please!"
Qui-Gon shifted his weight slightly, moving out of his aggressive stance, but his lightsaber didn't click off. Peacefulness didn't mean stupidity. "Drop your weapons," he growled, and once more a random thrill of excitement shivered down Ana's spine when he used that commanding tone. "Kick the rifles over to me."
The slaves obeyed immediately, sliding the blasters across the polished marble floors until they were safely out of reach. Only then did Qui-Gon click off his lightsaber and clip it back onto his belt. Ana glanced mistrustfully at the slaves, three of whom were beginning to cry, and then buzzed down her saber. She followed Qui-Gon across the room, where he passed his hand in front of the slaves. "Sit down," he said firmly. Dazedly, the tiny band of rebels obeyed, sitting against the wall. "Do not make a sound or a move." he ordered, and then gave a brief jerk of his chin to Ana. Ana hurried across the room and began checking the vitals of the scattered bodies, counting wounds and trying to see who was in the more pain. It didn't take long for Ana to ascertain that most of the guards were dead, but there was one young magistrate who was groaning and grasping weakly at his chest. Her hand hovered over his torso, reaching out to stroke the Force gently. The man's eyes rolled up in the back of his head as his body shut down for healing and recuperation.
Ana got to her feet and went over to Qui-Gon. "Master, he needs medical assistance," she whispered urgently. "Should I retrieve the king?" Qui-Gon's stormy blue-gray eyes narrowed.
"Yes. Run." he said sharply, and Ana took off at a dead run down the corridor.
09
Ana slid and slipped on the slippery marble floors of the palace, relying fully on the Force to tell her where to do. A mental tug led her through the maze of hallways, passageways, corridors, and paths that lined the intricate palace of Iridonia. Several slaves passed by her, all of them shooting her dirty looks, and Ana snarled orders to them, not caring if they were obeyed. Someone was in trouble, and she was glad of the distraction. She took the high stairs two at a time, bolting up the landings and striking her knee sharply against the banister accidentally. She hissed in pain, doubling over, trying hard to release her pain into the Force, but there was simply no time. Ana bolted up the steps, ignoring the dull throb of pain that shook her knee with every step.
The gigantic golden doors that led to Bu-Taan's office sprang before her, and she slammed them open with the heels of her hands. Before her, lounging regally on thick velvet cushions, sat Bu-Taan, his darkly muscled body standing out in harsh contrast to the soft luxury around him. His ice tiger paced restlessly, the silvery blue striped rippling in the bright glow of the lanterns. Bu-Taan took one look at Ana's disheveled face and panting, and smiled widely. "La'Ana," he purred. "How wonderful of you to join us."
Ana glanced around feverishly and saw two cloaked figures standing near the door. She cursed herself for her stupidity. "Your Majesty!" she gasped. "Your slaves, they're -"
"Revolting, I know," Bu-Taan said idly. "Massing? Arming themselves with illegal weaponry? Oh, how terrible!" A high, sharp burst of mocking laugher rang around the room. "And I suppose you have come to warn me of them? How very sweet of you, La'Ana."
A harsh metallic taste, bitter and thick, rose in Ana's mouth. "I don't understand," she said slowly. Bu-Taan laughed cruelly again.
"Really? Then let me make it quite simple. I ordered my slaves to revolt. Yes, I armed them. I gave them weapons that are used to maim and kill and injure. Don't you see? It's brilliant, really." He checked his dark nails, chocolate brown eyes narrowing with catty pleasure. "My slaves revolt, and suddenly my world is tossed into upheaval. And I, King Bu-Taan, shall be the savior. And also, I shall eradicate all of my slaves, so there will be no need for me to sign that damned treaty."
Ana's fingers pounced for her lightsaber, flicking it on. Bu-Taan clapped his hands, dark eyes flashing. "Come now, La'Ana, don't be foolish. I would hate to make your death … unpleasant." Ana took a menacing step forward. Bu-Taan sighed theatrically. "Such a shame. You were rather fetching, if in a plain way." He smiled nastily.
Then his fingers unlatched the chain that was restricting his ice tiger, and all hell broke loose.
09
A/N: I am SO SORRY for not posting this sooner, but I was down with pneumonia for quite a while. I'm still coughing, but I don't feel like I'm going to die anymore. :D So I managed to whip this out very quickly. I'm not sure how it came out, so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review!
*Waves hand*
You WILL review, and you WILL give me concrit to keep me on track!