Darsant Avat

Wiles of Coruscant

A murder was reported on the holonet before Qui-Gon and Mace could get their act together.

"It figures that she's on the opposite side of the planet," Mace grumbled. They could cross over there in about four hours when going hypersonic, but could not go any faster due to air friction and the complications it would create at such high speeds. Due to going faster than sound, the Jedi were allowed to fly above the skyways to cut across the atmosphere.

"I have a prediction."

"What?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I predict we won't be sleeping anywhere comfortable while we're there."

"I'll wager we won't be sleeping at all over there."

Qui-Gon missed the little one. It felt odd not to have the child at his side. Granted, he was a lot closer to the boy than he would have been—they were on the same planet, after all, and Obi-Wan's presence hummed at the end of the bond. The boy missed him, a sentiment that brought a smile to Qui-Gon's lips, but the child was also a bit excited because he would spend more time at the créche with his friends again. Qui-Gon had arranged for Obi-Wan to spend the nights at the créche so that he did not have to wallow in an empty apartment. Non-Jedi nine-year-olds would probably be alright with that, but Obi-Wan had never been alone by himself for so long before, and there was plenty of time to wean him into it.

There was going to be a lot of weaning with Obi-Wan. There usually was with padawans, but Obi-Wan was so little, there was going to be a lot more.

Mace poked him in the arm. "Focus," He chastised, "Stop thinking about your little one. You're like a mother hen. No attachments, Qui."

"I'm not attached," Qui-Gon growled, "And it's a fine thing for you to be preaching when you don't have a padawan of your own right now. It's not like we're doing anything important at the moment." They were simply flying. A boring ship, at that, on a rather straightforward route to the opposite side of the planet.

Mace sighed. "He's a cute boy. I'll give you that. And he did us a service, convincing you to remember who you are."

Qui-Gon grunted.

"You have always been strong in the Force. If you're on edge, it's probably with good reason."

"Thanks, Mace."

"Even if you're just crazy most of the time."

"Hm!" Qui-Gon turned away, laughing.

OoO

Servathi was no laughing matter.

"Streetrat," Said the captain, though not derisively, "Too many of them running around. Imperfect world, sad to see them come to this."

It was a boy, and he even looked a little bit like Obi-Wan, clad in rags and thin to the bone. Mace was keeping a steady hand at his elbow as Qui-Gon repeated to himself that this was not Obi-Wan, that Obi-Wan was safe at the temple, the young one's presence still humming happily through their training bond.

"She mutilated this one," Mace said dispassionately, and it took all of Qui-Gon's training not to be sick at the words. He was releasing his anxiety into the Force like a man desperate for air.

"Are the wounds inflicted after death?" Asked Qui-Gon.

"No," Said the coroner, "None of them are. Neither are the ones on the others." Six other bodies lied around the room, all young boys around Obi-Wan's age.

Mace's grip tightened at his elbow.

Right. Focus.

"We should go to the last site," Said the other Jedi, "See if there are any clues there as to where she went. It should resonate in the Force. These little ones are beyond our help now."

These little ones.

His little one.

By the Force, I should not have agreed to come on this mission…

"Thank you for your time, Coroner," Mace said to the mortician, who nodded. Qui-Gon inclined his head as well, and was the model of composure until they left the morgue.

"She's targeting Obi-Wan."

"Your little one is safe."

Little one.

"He's at the temple," Qui-Gon said tonelessly, "On the other side of the planet. But she's fixated on him somehow." How or why did not matter so much at this point, even if neither of them knew. Servathi was hardly a trained master of the Force, and Qui-Gon had been master for years and years. His shields should be impenetrable to a novice like her, no matter how much raw power she had. "How did she figure out what he looked like?"

"Qui, those children looked nothing like Obi-Wan." Mace's face was twisted, though. The last boy was far too thin, and from the ankles he was at least a year or two older than Obi-Wan. The facial structure was different, and he had somewhat longer hair, but he had the same colored hair, was around the same height, and there were enough similarities that no one could deny that Servathi had targeted him for those reasons. Other children were in varying states of health, but all with brownish hair, around the same height and same proportions in figure.

"Keep yourself together, Qui," Mace reminded him, and Qui-Gon blew out a breath. "This could be a coincidence."

They both knew how unlikely that was, even if her fixation on Obi-Wan was equally unlikely.

Obi-Wan is safe, Qui-Gon thought to himself even as he took out his comm. link. He's safe at the temple, surrounded by his fellow créchelings, probably in bed right now, you can feel him through the bond and you know at least he feels safe—

"Qui-Gon," Mace began warily, "Qui-Gon, don't—"

"I'm just calling his Créche Master."

"Qui-Gon, you have a bond with him! Since when did you stop trusting that?"

"Just a quick call," Qui-Gon insisted, as he finished punching in the frequency. "I'll only be a minute."

Mace rubbed his bald head in exasperation and waited as Qui-Gon finished talking to the Créche Master and yes, he's fine, we've been taking care of him for the last seven or so years of his life you know, Master Jinn. I'd offer to hand this over to Obi-Wan but he's sleeping right now and it's not good to wake children up in the middle of the night unless you have to. Yes we'll keep an eye on him until you return, for little Obi-Wan's sake make sure you do return. Don't worry, everything's fine.

"You are obsessed," Mace said at last, when Qui-Gon ended the transmission. "You are obsessed. You're going to the mind healers after this. You and your padawan both. I'm blaming this on your unusual bond for now, Qui, but if this keeps up I'm not sure if anyone will continue excusing you."

Giving into that parental impulse, crazy as that had been, actually calmed Qui-Gon considerably.

"I'm alright."

"You've lost your mind."

"I'm alright!"

"Well make sure that you are when we go to the site!" Mace huffed. "By the Force! Keep your head here with me, Qui! I need you here! I happen to need your attention more than your padawan at the moment!"

"Yes yes," Qui-Gon waved him along, "Let's go."

OoO

The officials had taped the last known area off haphazardly, and had left no one to watch over the place, which meant that the site was already spoiled. No one really cared all that much about the poor, and orphaned ragamuffins were unfortunately grouped into the lot. Luckily, Qui-Gon and Mace were not there to examine physical evidence.

Servathi took her sweet time here, Qui-Gon knew. She dragged the gagged and bound boy here and took her sweet time mutilating him. The air was thick with suffering, and Qui-Gon had to restrain himself from dialing on the comm. link again because he had a feeling the Créche Master would not receive it as well as she did the first time.

Mace knew him too well. "Qui-Gon…" He stated warningly.

"I'm fine. I'm completely fine."

"Hm!"

Their focus shifted back to the matter at hand, as they traced the already-fading Force imprints back in time. They split ways, with Mace heading up and Qui-Gon continuing at ground level.

"I can't decide if this is better or worse," Mace said into his earpiece, "She's alone, so she doesn't have that much influence, but she's very difficult to find. We can't afford to give her time to establish a pattern on Coruscant, but it's far too recent for us to be able to predict her movements and intercept her."

"We can hunt her down. She's not good at masking her Force presence yet." Servathi had also demonstrated that she could not bypass the shields Mace and Qui-Gon had. Beyond knowing he had been Force-sensitive, she had no idea how much power Qui-Gon had.

Good with the lightsaber. Bad at judging her opponent. Whoever taught her really wanted her to die, even if he wanted her to kill a lot of people along the way.

"Dealer, 0200," Mace suddenly announced, and Qui-Gon turned to look. Servathi was addicted to drugs, like most prostitutes. "She'd probably be around this area. There are a lot of shady dealings here."

Qui-Gon rounded the block. "I always find it strange when they deal in broad daylight." He saw an exchange, almost too deft for him to notice even though he was looking for it.

"Think he can tell me anything?" The dealer looked mousey and projected the aura of a rodent, his own features haggard and sickly due to his own use of the drugs he sold. There was the mad glint in his eyes that all drug-addicts had, one that was distinctly lacking in spirit, and yet hard, like an empty glass bottle.

"Worth a shot. Works since you like a homeless person."

"Come off it, Mace."

Drug-addicts were among the easiest to influence with the Force. Qui-Gon merely had to ask the question with a supplement of Force persuasion, and the stories spilled from the man's lips. A few days ago, he said, some really exotic twi'lek showed up in the neighborhood. He tried to get her to participate in activities Qui-Gon really was not interested in, but she had not been interested—either because he was a supply of drugs, or because he was not Force-sensitive and therefore not worth her attention. "Quite a looker," The dealer remarked, "If hips could kill, those hips…"

"Right," Mace was not impressed, "So she frequents the area. Time to cover our heads and wait, I think, if she is inclined to show up again this evening. Might not come up today though."

Qui-Gon pulled his hood over his head after using the Force to wipe the man's memory of their meeting. "Sounds like we wait."

"Still want to talk to her, try to capture her alive, Qui?"

It was amazing how one's perspective changes when one had a child to look after. Qui-Gon was not so far gone that he would kill Servathi in cold blood, but he was no longer as unwilling as he had been.

"We'll see," He said to Mace, "We do whatever is the easiest." Whatever the Force wills.

OoO

Servathi did not show up for several days, but a lot of misguided teens did. Qui-Gon had never experienced the same pang of anxiety when he had trained Feemor and Authsola. Maybe it was because at that point, they were secure in their standings in society, even if they were still young. Maybe he was just a lot less wise back then. Maybe he had not seen the dead body of a child that resembled one of them. Now, however, every time he saw a ragamuffin puffing smoke in the street, he thought of Obi-Wan, how these children were as young as Obi-Wan was, and Obi-Wan was so young.

"No twi'leks, even," Said Mace, "I'm trying to see if there are any twi'leks at all. She could have painted her skin, but there aren't any. She apparently is killing in bursts here, one day, seven, and then three days rest or something."

Qui-Gon was half meditating in the shadows. The streetlamps had turned on, though they offered limited illumination.

The Force suddenly tugged, and he opened his eyes to look in that direction.

"Do you feel that, Mace?"

"Yes."

"I'm going over there to investigate."

"Be careful, Qui."

The darkness was like a thick blindfold over the place, run-down buildings seeping with it. Above the platforms cris-crossed to form pathways in the upper sections of the buildings. Qui-Gon allowed the Force to guide him through the winding alleys. The very air was restless, filled with miserable folk anxious to find some release from their wretched lives. He walked the footsteps of thugs and thieves, of murderers and rapists and brutes who spent half their minds somewhere else and the other half trying to catch up with the first half.

He heard the muffled scream before he came upon them. Servathi held a vibroknife in hand, grinning maliciously.

"Cry, little on!" She cooed, almost motherly in her tone, "Your pain fuels me like the best iglshesi…Mmmm…we'll make do, we'll make do." She cackled hysterically.

It was instinct, not rage, that had Qui-Gon tugging at her lekku with the Force, pulling her away from another child she was maiming. She screeched, not expecting the attack, and tumbled to the ground, but was on her feet as Qui-Gon pulled out his lightsaber.

"More of you have come to play, hm?" Her own lightsaber painted an eerie glow over her features. It was not really red, more brown, like the color of dried blood. "How is my Obi-Wan? How is our little one? Hm?"

"Something odd is going on here," Qui-Gon said to Mace. He then focused on her. "Who is Obi-Wan?" He played, "Who is this little one?"

She angled her lightsaber slowly, making the shadows roll across the child who was making soft, choked noises. "Obi-Wan," She said idly, "Who is Obi-Wan?" She giggled uncontrollably. "You hear it? You hear it singing? 'Obi-Wan', 'Obi-Wan', 'Keep him close, that Obi-Wan, or the darkness shall take him! We shall take him!' Hahaha! Hahaha! Hahahaha!"

There was a loud sickening snap and the boy she had been torturing screamed.

"Completely nutters, Qui, draw her up! Make her go up!"

Qui-Gon lashed out with his lightsaber, and the two blades hummed as they clashed.

"You are hot," Servathi cooed to him, narrowing her dark eyes, "I bet you can do tons of things with that body of yours, hm? You make lots of women scream, I'll bet. Jedi always do. They pretend, oh how they pretend! But once the sun sets and all goes dark, when you don't see their faces, they prowl just like the rest of the scum, and they ride hard, they ride very hard."

Qui-Gon drove her back, mind focused on the battle instead of what her words implied. Focus on the here and now. Later he could analyze her words and see if there was any sense in them, or if the drugs and the mix of anger and hatred had rendered her incapable of any sane talk whatsoever. He pushed her up almost without realizing it, and she dodged Mace's blade at the last millisecond, hissing and sputtering. The purple blade did manage to sizzle through one of her lekku's. She went down instantly, incapacitated by the pain. Qui-Gon angled his blade at her throat while Mace deactivated his own lightsaber and went forward to restrain her. Servathi's lightsaber rolled to the side, deactivating on its own.

"She'll be executed anyway, Qui," Mace said seriously once he secured the cuffs on her.

Qui-Gon left her to him in favor of going to the child. He knelt down by him just as the boy expelled a last shuddering breath. A Force-sensitive human, Qui-Gon caught, before the youngling was lost forever.

He slapped his knee and tried not to succumb to the profound disappointment at having failed to save the child.

OoO

Seeing Obi-Wan was like inhaling fresh air after being buried for far too long. Qui-Gon refrained from outright hugging the young one in front of everyone, but he was anxious to approach him, and knelt to the boy's height to look him over. Around them, the other créchelings watched curiously. Initiate Chun visibly scowled at the scene.

"Master!" Obi-Wan beamed at him. Were his other padawans ever so happy to see him? "Did you stop the killer?"

Very much so. The braintails of twi'leks contained, as the name suggested, part of their brains, and injury to the lekku's promised injury to the brain. Servathi had fallen unconscious shortly after Mace secured her, and had not woken since. Likely, she never will. "Yes, Obi-Wan."

"Good," Obi-Wan declared, "Now he will not kill any more people."

Qui-Gon swallowed, mind flashing to the boys he had been unable to save. He still could not allow himself to hug the youngster, but he did reach out to grab his shoulders. "How are you?" He asked. "What have you been up to while I was away?"

He rose as Obi-Wan chattered, only half listening, most of his mind focused on the fact that he could hear the young voice, that the child was alive and warm next to him. It was troubling, he knew, that he was so protective of his padawan—all masters were, to a certain degree, but they were Jedi, and the life of a Jedi is a life of sacrifice. He could not always shelter Obi-Wan from the world, from a galaxy filled with danger, but Qui-Gon allowed himself to indulge in a little protectiveness as long as Obi-Wan was not expected to be able to defend himself.

At nine years old, as skilled as Obi-Wan might be, he could not possibly defend himself against the true threats out there.

Almost as if on cue, Obi-Wan exclaimed, "I'm allowed to spar again! Garen was right, I didn't forget after all! Master Yoda said I need to stretch though, because I lost some of my flex—flex—flex'bil'ty, but I didn't suddenly forget."

"Oh?" Qui-Gon laughed, bending down to tuck the child to his side, "Care to show your master what you remember later?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, and there was a sudden spike of nerves that indicated the boy was a bit intimidated. There was no way to make him more relaxed, and a little bit of nerves was healthy, especially in the beginning. Qui-Gon tucked the boy closer. "Come on, I'm curious."

"Alright." He still looked nervous.

"Later," Qui-Gon assured him. It could be difficult to submit to an examination of sorts on the spot. Obi-Wan seemed to relax a little at this. There will come a time when he would not be given such a courtesy, but for now…

Force, he is only nine years old…Obi-Wan is so young…

The Force suddenly tensed in warning. Qui-Gon turned around to see Mace and a few other Jedi Knights carrying Servathi in. Before he could stop him, Obi-Wan was edging forward in curiosity. Servathi suddenly snapped her head to look at him. Her wounded lekku dangled black and charred behind her head.

"Obi-Wan," She giggled, though it sounded more like a cackle, and suddenly lunged off the stretcher toward him. Her hands were still cuffed, and she started off at a bad angle, so she only succeeded in upending the stretcher and dumping herself onto the floor. Obi-Wan drew to Qui-Gon's side, alarmed.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Servathi cackled again, eyes carrying a mad glint, "There's a sweet thing! Bet you'll grow into quite a looker, if you live that long! The Dark Side is looking for you, we need to consume. The Jedi—the Jedi will fall, and it will all be because of you! You will bring about the end of the Jedi!" She cackled again, and was roughly pulled back. The other knights soon blocked her view as she started thrashing.

Sith, Qui-Gon hissed in his mind, And we thought she wasn't going to wake up. Obi-Wan was shaking next to him, whimpering a little in distress.

"Hush, young one," The master said to his padawan, "Don't believe all you hear. She is a madwoman."

"How did she know me?"

How indeed? But Obi-Wan should not worry about this. he was only nine years old, and Qui-Gon's padawan.

"Hush now, my child," Qui-Gon turned the boy away, "She is Force-sensitive, don't worry about it."

It was a long time before his little one calmed down.