"As long as we're respectful, I hope they won't bring it up," Obi-Wan said in return, also smiling.

"It's been a long time since many of them have been dragged across the galaxy on missions ending in battles and escapes," the Master noted. "I hope they haven't forgotten how stressful that can be."

"I think the two of you have the least to worry about," I broke in, turning to look at them over my shoulder. "It's me the Council wants to talk to."

"Very true," Qui-Gon agreed, the smile lingering on his rugged features. "At least we can be certain this meeting will be anything but dull. Don't worry." His hand came to rest on my shoulder, offering support. "Just answer their questions, be honest, and don't get upset if the Council seems skeptical. They've been discussing it literally hours, now, and may continue hours after we've been dismissed. Patience rewards all of us." He fell silent, but the hand stayed where it was, warm and heavy on my right shoulder. I said nothing, privately enjoying the moment.

The doors of the lift hissed open, revealing a small alcove with windows overlooking the Coruscant skyline on one side and a large pair of doors on the other. They stood closed, so stately and imposing that they had to be the doors to the Council chambers. Qui-Gon stepped past me and used a keypad next to the door to signal our arrival. Almost instantly, the doors swept open, and the two Jedi strode elegantly through them into the Jedi Council chamber. I followed meekly, feeling the first real strain of nervousness. The gorgeous sunset splashed full into the circular chamber through the tall windows which comprised the walls. A dozen seats were spaced evenly around the mosaic circle in the center, each seat occupied by a wholly different and amazing being, though each one wore the customary brown robe of the Jedi. I recognized most of them, having been introduced through photos in works of fiction, but had trouble recalling the bizarre names most of them had. It was hard to look at creatures like Yarael Poof and Ki-Adi Mundi and not think of them as fake, even though they were alive and real, right there in front of me. I glanced around the circle and noticed Mace Windu, looking considerably less like the actor who had portrayed him in my lifetime and more like a brooding but wise Jedi Master ought to. I got the feeling that though Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went before me, all eyes were following my passage instead of theirs. Qui-Gon halted in the center of the circle, folded his hands in front of him, and bowed respectfully to Yoda and Windu - as did Obi-Wan. "We came as soon as we could, my Masters," he offered.

"Your journey was difficult," Mace said patiently. "We take no offense. I trust you're feeling well, now?"

The scolding was slight, barely implied, but even I caught it. "Yes, thank you," Qui-Gon replied humbly.

"We had many other things to discuss before the issue which bears on you," Ki-Adi Mundi said. "Some of us have heard what happened to you, but only Master Yoda knows why he called us together. We wish for you to recount the story of what you encountered on your mission, so that everyone can hear it for themselves."

Qui-Gon nodded in acceptance and began his story, bobbing his head toward Obi-Wan now and again when some detail of importance was brought up, as if offering his Padawan as proof that it had gone exactly the way he said. I heard it in more detail now than when Obi-Wan had told me what happened: the Rodian ship was silent, almost deserted, when the Jedi had boarded it, but there was no reason for them not to proceed as directed. The Master had reached out with the Force to try and find any indication of hostility on board, but it was hard to tell. Being as they couldn't sense droids, only the tell-tale clanking of metal parts behind them saved them from being completely ambushed and shot in the back. By the time they forced their way back onto the Republic transport, not a single crew member was left alive. There was some indication of skirmish, but the sheer numbers of battle droids overwhelmed the traditionally small and under-equipped transport crew. Of particular interest to the Council was his description of the "surge" in the Force that seemed to have announced my arrival. "I have never felt anything like it. For an instant my senses dimmed, and my balance left me. I stumbled, and was nearly hit by a blaster shot. I recovered quickly, but looked to Obi-Wan, and from the startled look on his face, I knew he had felt it as well."

"Did you, Obi-Wan?" Mace Windu asked the young man.

Obi-Wan nodded firmly. "It was like something pushed the Force aside for a moment, like a stone falling into a pool. I lost my orientation for just a second. I thought it was something I had done, until I saw Master Qui-Gon stumble."

Mace looked from him to Yoda. "And you felt it, too."

"Yes," Yoda hummed, his wrinkled face blank as he concentrated on hearing the story. "More there is, though."

Qui-Gon was allowed to continue his story, telling them how he came across me in a corridor, tried in that instant to see what I was feeling, and when he failed to sense anything, knew he had to bring me along. The rest of the story I knew, so I took a moment or two to glance around and take in the facial expressions of anyone who displayed one. The Jedi were all stoic, concealing their reactions until such a time as it was appropriate. I was glad to have the broad backs of the two Jedi hiding me from Yoda and Mace Windu, because at the moment, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what they were thinking. As if in response to my hesitation, Windu spoke as Qui-Gon's tale ended. And...this is the girl?"

"Her name is Stacey," Qui-Gon said insistently, taking a step to the side and holding out a hand to indicate me. I just stood there, hands clasped behind my back, facing the piercing stares of the Jedi Council. "Anything you wish to know, I would suggest you ask her yourself."

"Before we do that," another councilor, behind me, spoke up, "I would like to hear what about her is so unusual that Master Yoda wanted us to gather and discuss. You mentioned that she may be from another galaxy, Master?"

"The possibility exists," Yoda murmured, "but proven beyond doubt it may never be. Deeper than it seems on the surface, this is. I promise you."

"For one, her mind is closed to the Force," Qui-Gon said in reply to the actual question that had been asked. "Unlike being unable to move someone with a strong will, she has no presence whatsoever in the Force. She stands like a void in the Force's power, a black hole. This afternoon, while examining her for injury, we took a midi-chlorian count and found it to be zero."

At last, there was a reaction from the Council. Each of them gasped and murmured disbelief. "How can that be?" Adi Gallia, a woman seated directly behind me, demanded to know.

"We don't know yet," Qui-Gon answered.

"We know not how she came," Yoda interrupted, his long ears twitching impatiently. "Impossible we think this is, but here stands proof that possible it is. Outside the Force, she is, none of us can deny it."

I was starting to get annoyed with the way they all talked around me rather than to me, but heeding Qui-Gon's advice, I let it go and waited patiently. Mace Windu was staring hard at me, his dark eyes glittering, but he asked one more thing of the Jedi Master beside me. "Did you run any other tests which might confirm this theory of yours?"

"Her DNA is natural, it hasn't been tampered with," Qui-Gon answered. "There's no sign she ever had an illness or infection which might have wiped out the midi-chlorians, and no sign her count has been altered in any way. She is perfectly real, as human as myself, but simply lives without midi-chlorians in her cells."

Windu was visibly stumped. He looked at me again, and then at Yoda, as if to beg for help. The wizened Master gazed coolly at me. "How feel you?"

"Tired, Master Yoda," I replied, figuring that respect toward them would make a good first impression. "But other than that, fine, I guess."

"Understand what we are talking about, do you?"

"A little."

"When did you come to our galaxy?" Ki-Adi Mundi asked.

"I don't know," I said to him, glancing his way. "It wasn't very long before Qui-Gon found me. I don't remember anything of being transported or...however I got here. I just woke up on the transport, in a corridor, in the middle of a battle. Somehow I got a concussion from it, though."

"After hearing her side of the story, I can't help but believe that the moment Obi-Wan and I - and Master Yoda - felt the surge in the Force was the moment she awoke to find herself among us," Qui-Gon attempted. "Or, the moment she came."

Ki-Adi nodded his tall head in acceptance of that information before turning back to me. "How do you know this is not your home galaxy?"

An easy question, one that made me smirk a little. "Because, none of this exists for real where I come from. We don't even really have space travel, the whole human race is confined to just one planet. Everything here - Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, you, Coruscant, Rodians, all of it - is part of a fictional legend from long ago that people on my world like to follow. I had no idea where I was until I saw Qui-Gon, and I still can't believe that I'm not making this up, this is really real."

More murmuring around the circle, subdued and hesitant. From some of them, I gathered they tried at that moment to read into my mind, to see whether I was lying or insane, but encountered the void and were profoundly disturbed by it. They began to ask me more questions, about what I knew about midi-chlorians, the Force, about my world (or the world I said I came from), whether I knew how I got here, but they didn't seem pleased by my answers. The questioning became tiresome, for the more insistent they became in asking, the more reluctant I became in answering. They kept repeating themselves, hoping I would answer differently or more in depth, but as I had no answers to give, they were frustrated. Outside the giant windows the sky sank into deep blue and then black, lights came on in buildings and ships, and the stars flamed into existence, but still I stood there, enduring the examination, while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood silently on either side of me. The former watched everything without reaction, but the latter fidgeted a little, clasping and unclasping his hands beneath the concealing sleeves of his robe, more and more as the night drew on. In time, I began to notice that I wasn't feeling well again. I wanted the session to end so I could go lie down, I felt weak and stiff. Finally, Yoda waved a tiny arm to get the whole Council's attention. "Answered these questions will not be tonight," he grumbled. "Master Qui-Gon and his apprentice need rest, complete their mission they must. Rest, the girl must as well, if heal she will." He paused, but no one argued with him, so he gazed up at the three of us. "Return to your quarters you may. Discuss this we will, but needed your presence is not."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bowed deeply, so I did, too. "Thank you, Master Yoda."

"Go your way. May the Force be with you."

Nodding, Master Qui-Gon turned on his heel and strode for the chamber doors, and I couldn't follow him fast enough. Obi-Wan brought up the rear, but none of us said anything until we were in the lift and descending rapidly out of the spire. "Why did I know it was going to be like that?" I exclaimed, leaning against the wall of the lift and rubbing my face. I was so tired, my vision was swimming and my head felt like it was going to explode. "They didn't believe me, I know it."

"On the contrary, they most certainly believed you," Qui-Gon said firmly. "That was what made them so urgent. It will take long for them to reconcile your existence with what we know of the Force." He stood next to me, and placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it a little. "Don't worry about it. You bear no responsibility for being here, or for giving the Council something to think about. There is a reason the Force brought you here, and specifically to me, but even if we never understand it, we have to know that it's the will of the Force."

I was so tired, I hardly noticed his touch. I could only close my eyes and tilt my head back against the wall. "Whatever," I muttered. "I just don't want to do that again."

The lift came to a cushioned stop on the right floor and the doors opened. Qui-Gon slid his hand all the way along my shoulders and guided me out. "Come, now. You need rest. I don't think a few hours' nap has given you what you need to heal. Let me be concerned with what the Council does, don't give it another thought."

Fine, I thought to myself. I've got nothing better to do, anyway. I permitted the Jedi Master to escort me down the hallway toward quarters, as my feet were already stumbling in weariness and a haze had returned to my senses. I could think of nothing but curling up on that couch under Obi-Wan's wonderful robe and sleeping the night away, ignoring everything around me, including Qui-Gon. I said nothing the rest of the way, barely noticing when we arrived at our destination until we were inside the room. In our absence, the room had been cleaned, the lights turned on, and extra blankets and a cot left for me. Had I not been falling-down-tired, I would've remarked or at least thought about how efficient the Jedi could be. Master and Padawan had not spoken to each other the whole way back, either, but now, Obi-Wan broke the silence and startled me. "Are you all right?" he asked concernedly. "You don't look so well."

"I'm just tired," I mumbled. I couldn't even recognize the sound of my own voice. It sounded far away, like it was coming from someone else.

"You shouldn't be," Qui-Gon said, standing in front of me and studying me with a suspicious eye. "Come, you're not to spend another moment on your feet until you're completely healed." He steered me toward the cot, which was set up along the wall just outside his bedroom, and saw to it I laid down and was made comfortable. The mere act of reclining sent waves of dizziness through my head, so strong that I never noticed Qui-Gon remove my shoes and wrap a blanket around me. When at last I felt stable enough to open my eyes, I found him kneeling beside me, peering anxiously at me. He reached over and brushed his fingertips along my forehead. "I fear the concussion may have been made worse by the rapid pressure changes of the lift," he speculated, speaking quietly and soothingly. "There are Jedi healing techniques that can ease the pressure and heal the damaged vessels, but I don't know if they would work on you. But...I will try." He glanced over his shoulder. "Obi-Wan, bring me something for her to drink. Anything."

"Yes, Master." The apprentice hurried away to help. Qui-Gon, meanwhile, shrugged off his robe and seated himself on the end of the cot, near my head. Then, to my surprise, he gently lifted my head and rested it on his knee, cradling me as he began to carefully massage my temples. I was so lost in the disoriented feeling making me ill that I couldn't bring myself to enjoy it, but I was sure that somehow, he could make me feel better. Obi-Wan returned with a cup and a full pitcher, and left them on the floor near his Master's feet. "Are you sure this will help?" he wondered as I closed my eyes.

"No," Qui-Gon said honestly, "but it won't make things worse. I have to try, in the hopes it may work on her even if she exists outside the Force. Unfortunately, that means I can't use the Force to tell me if it's working, I can only rely on her." I felt him lean over me, and heard his voice just above me. "Just relax. Let yourself sleep, if sleep will come. I will watch over you, I'll be right here."

"Thank you," I tried to whisper, but most of it was lost on my dry lips. Sleep came quickly and stole over me, but not before my head cleared enough that I could feel the electricity of the Jedi Master's caress on my skin. I hoped it was going to heal me. Anything to make the dizziness go away. For now, that was my only care. Perhaps in the morning, with a clear mind, I would think about other things.

I thought I had merely drifted into another dream, one more imaginative and bizarre than the rest which had floated to me throughout the night, but then it all came back to me: that's not a dream. Those voices I was hearing, conversing next to me, were in reality, and the fuzzy, foggy sensation weighing on my head was the result of my injury's failure to heal. I preferred the warmth of the bed and the ability to overhear their discussion to making my wakefulness known, and so did not open my eyes. The only indication anyone might have that I was awake was the way my foot twitched - an uncontrollable reflex of my body. But these two didn't know about that.

"You can't neglect your own health for her sake," Obi-Wan was saying, in a hushed tone that implied he was trying not to sound scolding. His concern was evident. "You should sleep. I will sit at her side for a while."

"No, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently, in that way that no one could argue with. "I'm not tired. I'll last far longer than she will. She needs my help." He paused, and sighed lightly. "Would you want me to forsake the healing process for my own needs if it were you who needed my help?"

Only silence came from the apprentice, who I gathered was seated on the floor at my side. My head still rested in Qui-Gon's lap, and his callused fingertips still moved in careful patterns along my forehead as he brought the Force to bear in an attempt to hasten healing. "You see, Obi-Wan?" the Master continued, a smile in his voice. "I would do it for you, without question, but I would never deny the same treatment for anyone else. There are some times when you can help, some when you can do nothing, but every time you ought to try. The simple act of offering your assistance is often all the assistance needed."

I heard Obi-Wan shift his seat, but he said nothing for a long time. Then, his voice came closer to me, almost whispering, and held a note of solemnity uncharacteristic of the young man. "She's a strong woman. Not once have I gathered that she's afraid of anything, though anyone in her position would have a right to be. Abandoned in a different galaxy from her home, without any friends or reason for being here..."

"I wonder what we would sense in her, if we could," Qui-Gon quietly mused.

"Is she...going to be well?"

Qui-Gon sighed again. I could feel the movement of his strong body. "I believe so. But I have a growing suspicion that her state may be due to something else." He paused again, and I wondered what I might see if I looked up into his face. "It came upon her rather suddenly, after being fine most of the day. I'm beginning to doubt the rapid change in pressure between here and the Council chambers had anything to do with it."

"It sounds like a plausible theory to me," Obi-Wan offered, "though I'm not trained to make medical decisions." I heard the rustle of his clothing as he got up, and his whispered blessing to his Master as he walked back in the direction of his bedroom. Qui-Gon remained where he was, seated comfortably on the end of the cot, his back against the wall as he held me and attempted to apply his knowledge of Jedi healing techniques to my presumed injury. I could no longer fake sleep, and so let my eyes drift open to find him, but failed for a moment because the room was completely dark. Some light filtered in from the window, but it was hidden from me by a pillar along the outer wall, making this corner of their quarters black and still. But he was there, and after a moment, I could see him, and he knew I was awake.

The Master Jedi looked at me, wearing his usual faint remnant of a smile, and seemed relieved. "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice even deeper than usual as he kept it low, so as not to disturb his apprentice.

I moistened my lips before trying to speak. "Okay," I replied faintly. "What's wrong?"

His face twitched uncertainly. "I'm not sure. It may be your concussion, but it may not. Tell me exactly how you feel, I need to know."

I let my eyes close for a moment while I thought. "Not dizzy like before. My head doesn't hurt, it's just...I don't know. I feel very tired. Like...worn out."

Qui-Gon reached down beside him, and the next thing I knew, he held the cup to my lips. I didn't need him to tell me to drink, my throat was dry as Tatooine, though the water was stale and didn't go down very well. Qui-Gon held me as I choked and settled back onto his knee. "Without any way to sense your mind," he continued as quietly as before, "I can't tell if you're healing or not. I've done what I can." He brushed his fingertips across my brow and down my cheek, which made me tremble - and hope he didn't notice. If he did, he said nothing about it. "I don't want to leave you unattended. Try to sleep. After daybreak, I may have to take you to the healers to see what more can be done."

I nodded, but had no words to express my gratitude. The mere fact that he was forsaking a night of rest to sit up with me was humbling, though I knew that he would do it for anyone in need, as he told Obi-Wan. Still, at the moment it was me who got to receive his care, and no one else mattered to him. He was right - that was all the assistance I needed, whether he could actually do anything for me or not.

I must have dozed, because the next thing I knew, the room was light again with the dim gray glow of dawn. A glance up at Qui-Gon found him dozing as well, his head tilted back against the wall, his hand lying limp on my shoulder. I could only lie there and wait for him to wake, listening to him breathe, the only sound in the utterly still quarters. My head was clear, but that nagging sense of fatigue kept me down, feeling heavy, unwilling to do anything but stay in that bed, curled up under the blanket. Even breathing seemed an effort. When I had first arrived in this time and place, my body was willing to go anywhere while my mind was completely shut down, but now, it was my body which failed to be motivated and my mind that was ready to go. At least it gave me an opportunity to study and admire the Jedi Master, without his notice. About that time, though, Obi-Wan came out of his room and made his way over, smirking a little to himself when he saw that his Master had fallen asleep. He saw me awake and knelt beside the cot. "How are you feeling?" he whispered.

"Tired," I responded. "I feel like I haven't slept."

He frowned a little. "That's odd. You slept all evening and most of the night." His voice must not have been quiet enough, because Qui-Gon stirred and then blinked, taking a moment to orient himself. "Good morning, Master."

"Morning, Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon shifted his gaze from his Padawan to me. "And to you. How are you?"

"Like I said to Obi-Wan...tired. Worse than last night."

He received that bit of information with a slow nod, and shifted his eyes back to Obi-Wan. "I'm taking her to the healers again. This isn't right."

"I agree, Master," the young man said heavily. "There's something...unsettling about this."

Qui-Gon turned his head away, his expression keen, as if he was listening for whispers. "Perhaps you sense the agitation of the other Masters," he suggested, and I heard a new anxiousness in his voice. "They don't know what to think about this, you can feel it."

"I don't know," Obi-Wan murmured. "I mean, I do sense that, but...I don't think that's quite it."

The two Jedi disappeared long enough to dress, and then came back to escort me to the sickbay once again. I pushed myself reluctantly to a seat and then to my feet, but my strength seemed to have left me completely, and I stumbled into Obi-Wan. Clinging to his shoulder, I sighed in frustration. I had that same feeling as that time I sprained my ankle at summer camp - completely, utterly helpless. I hated it. "I can't walk," I complained to Qui-Gon.

"We'll support you," he encouraged, offering an arm.

"No, I mean it. I really can't walk." I could hear the panic in my own voice. I tried taking a few steps, as if to prove it, and collapsed weakly into the Master's waiting arms. "What's wrong with me?"

"To the healers. Now." Qui-Gon scooped me up and carried me straight out the door, not even looking back to see that Obi-Wan followed right behind him. I wondered at his strength, as a man his age should certainly not be able to carry me - heck, men half his age can't - but he never thought twice about it. He marched straight to the lift without a word and waited for Obi-Wan to push the button for the right floor. When the doors swished open, he stepped right out and barged into the sickbay, startling the droids who had little to occupy them this early in the morning. "Make ready a bed," the Master demanded of them. "I need some tests run. There's something wrong with her."

The medical droids hustled to obey, and in no time I was surrounded by their poking, prodding presence as I lay inert on a bed. Both Master and Padawan hovered nearby, taking peeks at screens and following the investigatio's progress with keen interest, never letting on what they were reading or observing. I offered no resistance, I lacked the strength even if I wanted to make them stop. After a time, Obi-Wan left the beeping, flashing medical equipment and came to my side, taking my hand between both of his. "Don't worry," he said kindly, "we'll figure it out. You'll be on your feet in no time."

"Oh yeah?" I dared with a smile, though without much conviction. "What do you know?"

"Not much, admittedly." He glanced over his shoulder toward Qui-Gon, who looked up from a screen, and the two of them shared a glance that seemed a lot more worried than I expected. When he looked back toward me, I could see discomfort in his blue eyes, his brow creased with concern. I asked him what it was. "Nothing," he said almost immediately. "They're still working on it. Are you sure you feel all right? Aside from the fatigue?"

"Yeah," I said. "My head is clear. I'm just tired." He bowed his head, avoiding my gaze, and that made me suspicious. "Obi-Wan, what's going on?"

Obi-Wan said nothing, only stood there holding my hand in his, abstractedly caressing it with a thumb. Gestures failed to be comforting at this point, I only wanted to know what was going on - but was afraid to ask anyone else. I became aware that across the room, Qui-Gon was arguing with a droid. "Nothing," I heard him snap. "She's done nothing out of the ordinary, nothing Obi-Wan and I didn't also do. We ate the same meal, went the same places..."

"Then the only explanation is her physiology," the droid said concludingly.

"But there's nothing we can do, then." He suddenly looked up, at me, realizing he could be overheard. "Thank you," he went on, softening his tone. "That's what I needed to know." He left the medical droid's station and crossed to my bed, coming up on the other side from Obi-Wan. He forced himself to smile. "Well, there's good news. Apparently, the Force is not completely gone from you. The healing techniques worked. I managed to see to it your concussion is healed, completely."

"Good," I acknowledged. "But what's wrong with me now?"

Qui-Gon was trying to conceal his reaction to the knowledge he bore, but this time, it was useless. His face fell, and he looked away. "Your...body is inexplicably shutting down. It's as if you have a disease that robs you of life one organ at a time, or a serious loss of blood, but you've suffered neither. You're completely healthy, but...dying."

I wasn't sure he said what I thought I heard, so I said, "What?"

"Stacey, I'm sorry. But...you're dying." Qui-Gon turned his face back to me, and it was tight with pain, his eyes sad. "Were there a disease we could cure it, but there's nothing. It may be a result of your lack of midi-chlorians. We can't be sure, though."

I glanced from him to Obi-Wan, who bit his lip as if trying to hold back a reaction, and then back again. "I don't understand. Can't you do anything?"

"I wouldn't know what to do," Qui-Gon admitted, reaching his hand out and stroking my hair. "We're calling in the healers, and I will speak to the Council. I don't care what they think of you being here, or what bearing it has, you need our help. Maybe they can do something." He glanced around, located a stool, and dragged it over next to the bed to sit on. "But I will not leave you while we wait for them."

"Nor will I." Obi-Wan sat on the edge of the narrow medical bed, still holding my hand.

I stared at both of them with new appreciation. They hardly knew me, they'd only just met me a couple days before, dragged me across the foreign galaxy with them. But they were kind enough to offer me the support only a companion of years would deserve. I could only whisper, "Thank you," before my mind finally seized on the words Qui-Gon had uttered and made me start to cry.

The morning passed in a blur of activity and emotion. The healers - actual Jedi, whose purpose in the order was to use the Force for healing - came and went, because they could do nothing. Qui-Gon's use of the Force to heal my concussion was about as far as their skills could go, they had no way of calling on their power to keep me alive in this situation. Various members of the Council came, discussed the situation with Qui-Gon - giving me more details into my physical condition than I wanted to know - and left, but a couple stayed. One was Adi Gallia, the other was Mace Windu. The former seemed to have an inkling of the compassion Qui-Gon was famous for, or maybe it was female bonding, I don't know, but she stayed and talked to me, asking me unimportant things about home and myself to keep my mind off my predicament. The latter said little, but stood thinking for a long time. Neither of them proposed any action, though, and that bothered me. At one point they both moved away to consult Qui-Gon, so I remarked about the lack of action to Obi-Wan. "Don't think they're not trying," he defended. "They're doing the best they can. Master Qui-Gon knows he can do nothing, he's wise to seek their counsel."

I set my hand on top of his. "I'm sorry you got stuck with me. And now I'm just going to...up and die on you."

"Don't be sorry." He smiled warmly. "I don't believe you'll die. And I don't consider us stuck with you. On occasion, the Master does take in needy beings whose purpose I couldn't fathom, who end up being more trouble than gain, but I don't argue with him. He is wiser than I. But I don't see you as a burden, not at all. I'm glad you're here." Something in the way he looked at me made me believe him.

Qui-Gon moved back into my presence, looking worn out again, but with a spark of hope in his vivid blue eyes. "Master Windu has come up with an idea. I don't know if it will work, but it's worth a try." I looked up, ready to hear it. "We've figured that because you have no midi-chlorians, your body is unable to function. Why that should be so here and not where you come from, I don't know, but that's not our concern. We're going to try introducing midi-chlorians into your bloodstream, to see if that has any effect."

I pondered the idea, figuring it was probably the only thing to do. "I won't be an anomaly anymore, if that works," I noted. Then, I added with a smirk, "and I won't be able to keep my thoughts to myself anymore."

Through his fatigue and worry, Qui-Gon found the strength to chuckle. "That's the price you'll have to pay, my friend."

"Do whatever you have to," I relented.

The midi-chlorians would have to come from Qui-Gon himself, as everyone available was screened and his blood type matched mine the closest. The suspense was palpable as the sample was fed slowly into my bloodstream, and we waited to see what kind of effect it had. The Jedi hung around me, making small talk, watching monitors, watching me. For some reason, young Obi-Wan had become extremely protective of me, sitting on the bed with me and asking me about my home planet, my family, and my friends. That made me laugh, and tell him things about myself that not many people knew, and for a while my mind wasn't focused on the tension and the frightening banks of medical equipment bunched around the bed. Qui-Gon sat nearby, listening, smiling faintly. Adi Gallia and Mace Windu had withdrawn to the other side of the room to discuss the potential outcome with the healers, who had returned to see whether the idea would work, and I wondered what they were thinking. After an hour and more of absolutely nothing, something finally started to happen. I felt it before any monitors showed it - as if electricity were creeping through my extremities, making my skin tingle and my muscles tremble. Obi-Wan felt it as he held my hand, and cried "Master!" in warning. Qui-Gon leaped from his seat and was hovering over me in an instant, checking the monitors to see what they had to say. The electricity spread and filled me completely, making it hard to breathe, to concentrate on reality. The monitors were beeping with alarm. Then, everything went black.

Without the awareness of time, it seemed to me I only went cold for a moment. But when I came to, first hearing, then feeling, then finally seeing, I guessed quite a bit of time had passed. I had no idea what had happened while I was unconscious, though much later Obi-Wan told me about everyone rushing around in a panic, Master Qui-Gon pressing his fingers to my neck in search of a pulse, the droids pushing in to try to revive me, and the eventual conclusion that they could do nothing nor give me any medication to wake me, and could only wait it out. I heard a stillness, as of desertion, and then felt the warmth of someone's hand holding mine. Opening my eyes, I found myself looking straight into the caring eyes of Qui-Gon Jinn. The corners of his mouth curved naturally upward as our eyes met. "Welcome back," he said, relieved. There was something else in his expression, but I couldn't identify it.

"How...how long have I been out?" I wondered hoarsely.

"Hours," the Master replied. "It's evening. I was about to summon Obi-Wan to take my place so I could get some sleep. But..." The smile intensified. "You're awake. And well, I might add."

Well? I lay there in silence, mentally taking stock of my physical progress, and sure enough, I felt great. Not even tired. "What happened?"

"We almost lost you," Qui-Gon informed me, sitting up and releasing my hand. "The midi-chlorians had just taken a hold, when your body's immune system saw them as foreign and attacked them. You lost consciousness, and nearly stopped breathing. But, we waited, and in time, the midi-chlorians were able to work through it and become a part of you." He offered me a cup, which I willingly took and drained completely. It was sweeter than water, but otherwise unidentifiable. "You should be fine, now."

"Wow." I sat there, staring at the cup between my hands, unable to say or think much more than that. "So...now what?

"Don't be concerned about that. Just relax, get some rest."

"I don't want to rest," I said defiantly, sitting up. "Master Qui-Gon, I feel great. I'm not tired, I don't want to sleep. You probably could, but I can't."

The Jedi chuckled gruffly, leaning back in his chair. "I can see that. But you've been through a lot today. There's no need to run out and conquer the galaxy." He looked strangely at me, then. "Why are you disappointed?"

I stared at him. That was what I had been thinking! Disappointed that he wanted me to rest more, I guess. "You really can sense my thoughts," I said incredulously.

Qui-Gon was immensely amused by that. "Why shouldn't I? The midi-chlorians have tuned you in to the Force, in a way. You're no longer blank to me, I can feel your presence almost as strongly as I can feel Obi-Wan's. It's peculiar, but not as strange as not being able to feel you at all."

The Force, huh? I thought. I had never tried to do anything silly like "use the Force," because it never really existed, but now, I had to wonder. I had to try. I gazed intensely at Qui-Gon, and to my utter surprise, I felt the sensation of energy flowing from him, around both of us, filling the room like a scent swimming in humid air. I could actually feel, intuitively, what he meant by "peculiar," and how much of a relief it was to him to be able to connect with my mind. "That is so weird," I breathed, and by his smile I knew Qui-Gon understood what I referred to.

"You can feel it, then," he observed. "The Force is with you."

"Yeah! It's...well, you know what it's like."

"That's the strange part." Qui-Gon got up from his chair and extended a hand to help me off the bed. One medical droid was in the room, observing, but decided not to stop him from taking me out of the sickbay. "Most humans, and most beings in general, can't feel the Force at all. Only Jedi can, that's what makes them Jedi. Every living thing contributes to the Force, but most of them never know the Force. It's strange that you can."

Such news was a delight to hear. I fairly squealed with excitement when I said, "Ooh, I've got Jedi tendencies!"

"I didn't say that," Qui-Gon warned. "What may be happening, is...oh, I'll show you." He didn't even acknowledge the droid by the door watching him warily, casually walking right past it and leading me off down the corridor.

Rather than go down to quarters, Qui-Gon led me into the maze of halls and rooms that comprised this section of the Temple, a place where some came to learn and some to meditate, revolving around the healing profession. We came upon Obi-Wan in a small chamber meant for meditation, doing exactly that, though he turned instantly upon sensing someone coming through the door. "Master," he said with some surprise, "I felt two people come in. What..." His eyes widened, and fairly scrambled to his feet when he saw it was me, up and around. He was lost for words, temporarily, and could only take my hands in his as if to feel that I was no spirit, but flesh, and healthy flesh at that. "You're better," he finally said.

"I know," I said in return.

"I felt you," he continued, becoming intense again. "Not as strongly as Master Qui-Gon, but I could sense you when you came in. The midi-chlorians have done it."

"She will live," Qui-Gon confirmed with a nod. "But I don't think our time together is over. The story becomes stranger as time goes on."

Obi-Wan frowned curiously. "Meaning?"

"Come with me. There's something I want to test."

On to part 4

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