"Senator, your life is in danger," Qui-Gon reminded him, "and we are here to protect you. Our rooms were broken into last night, and a shooter waited in ambush to kill us. We spent the night on our ship, for there is no safe place left on Rodia for us." The news caused the senator to grow very quiet, as he realized how close he was to being killed after all. The Master continued calmly. "Obi-Wan and I will be at your side throughout the day, anyone wishing to do you harm will literally have to go through us. But I strongly recommend you consider returning to Coruscant as soon as possible. We may be able to protect you today, but the longer this persists, the harder it will become. There have been several attempts on our lives. We cannot let this go on."

The senator regarded him for a moment. "You think that if I return to Coruscant, the threats will end and my life will be spared?"

"Possibly. But in the least, you will be better protected there than here, with only two Jedi to watch out for you."

Nodding, the senator eased himself to a seat, folding his long fingers together in his lap. "Your point is well-taken. If this election were a complete surety, I would consider going back immediately. But as it is, I must make appearances and vote myself, so that the people of Rodia can see that I am with them. The majority of the world knows nothing of these threats, we've done our best to keep the news quiet."

"A wise choice," Qui-Gon said gently. "But I fear your assassin may be one of your people, in truth, though he has hired a human thug by the name of Beren Teeg to do the work."

"Do you know this man?"

"I've never heard of him. But thugs have a way of making a reputation for themselves in the wrong circles." Qui-Gon stepped over to face the senator, tucking his hands inside his robe sleeves. "I have reason to believe this man was the one behind the more recent attack on our ship, and was likely the one waiting for us in our rooms last night, but I have no proof. We have arrested a member of the governor's staff for his involvement, but aside from the assassin's name, he's given us nothing. You can be sure, however, that a man such as Teeg is not acting under his own ambitions - he has been hired by another."

The senator remained silent, contemplating any number of things. The three of us waited, having nothing more to say. I stood behind the Jedi, hands clasped behind my back, feeling out with my mind to try and glimpse the thoughts of my companions. Qui-Gon was in an urgent mood, but his mind was closed to intrusion. Obi-Wan was calm and expectant, intimately aware that we were headed for some action in some form or another. He glanced at me when he felt my wondering, and the tiniest hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth, as if to acknowledge me. The Jedi were at peace with whatever may come of this day, though alert and prepared for battle as well as content with acting as bodyguards. And this time, I would get to go with them.

At last, the senator found his voice again. "Master Jinn, your warning has not fallen on deaf ears. Regardless of the election's outcome, I will ready my ship and leave for Coruscant tonight, in the late hours. After we have been publicly seen voting, I will send my family to the ship immediately, to spare them any attempts on their lives."

"I wouldn't do that," Obi-Wan warned. "I sense that your ship is no safer than the planet's surface."

"Yes, there is a disturbance in the Force," Qui-Gon agreed solemnly. "Take no unnecessary risks, senator. Your family will be safe here, the security force I chose to guard your home comes from Equator City's police force, they can be trusted. Do not inform anyone except the rest of your party that we are leaving until this evening, when the results are to be announced. And do not leave this estate without both my apprentice and I."

The senator agreed and invited us to share the morning meal with him, an invitation worth accepting since we had not eaten before embarking on our errand this morning. Before we left the room, however, Qui-Gon halted me in the doorway and leaned down to speak in confidence. "I am torn," he admitted seriously. "It would ease my mind if you would stay here during the day, where it's safe, but I have a strong sense that I should not do so. I can't explain it."

Obi-Wan returned to us, and stood so close that he blocked anyone from the next room from overhearing us. I gazed into Master Qui-Gon's gray eyes and understood what he meant. "Is there really a disturbance in the Force? I can't feel it."

"You have no Jedi training," he reminded. "Stretch your mind out if you can, and touch mine. You may be able to get a glimpse of it through me." He shifted his gaze to his apprentice. "You feel it also?"

"Yes, Master. It's slight, but indicative that something dark is near," Obi-Wan replied. "Not on Rodia, but near."

"The Dark Side?" I wondered.

"Perhaps someone with an evil intent, who would contribute to or be moved by the Dark Side," Qui-Gon explained. "I agree, it's near, but not on Rodia. I may have to have the security net search for unauthorized ships orbiting the planet." His eyes returned to me, his voice remaining calm but lowered. "I don't want to put you in danger."

I reached out but felt only his conflicted mood, his kind concern for my welfare warring against a subtle but unmistakable need to have me at his side, even in danger. "I know," I assured. "But I'm not afraid to die. If that's why I've been brought to your galaxy, so be it. I just don't want to be in the way, or screw up and prevent you from doing your duty." Qui-Gon nodded slightly in acceptance. "What is it you sense, about me?"

He shook his head slowly. "I don't understand it. I have an undeniable sense that the will of the Force is not to leave you here. It tells me, simply, 'Take her.' If you are not afraid of that, then..."

Obi-Wan gave him a strange look. "You're certain of this, Master?"

"Quite certain, Obi-Wan."

The apprentice sighed. "It goes against all wisdom."

"I'll be fine," I assured him. "I may not know how to hold a weapon, but who knows what might be in store?"

"She's right," Qui-Gon pointed out. "We don't actually know that we will come under fire today. It may be rather uneventful - though that would be unusual, for a Rodian election." Someone from the senator's house staff drew near to inform us that the meal was served, so the Master broke off the discussion and left his decision unsaid. Obi-Wan gave me a look to imply that he was worried about having me along, but said nothing more either for or against the idea.

Within the hour we were back on the streets of Equator City, heading for the city's sole polling station near the capitol so the senator could vote and then appear before the citizens also coming to vote. The two Jedi walked no more than a pace behind him, on either side, towering over him. I stayed a pace or two behind them, looking around as we walked, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Long lines stretched outward from the big square building where the polls lay, but none of the Rodians waiting for their chance begrudged the senator his place when he walked straight past all of them - waving and acknowledging their bright greetings - to vote before them. Hovering camera droids captured the whole event on holographic relay for the world to see, though the far side of the planet wouldn't see it for another twelve hours or so. I wondered about that, about being so hasty to leave when the citizens of Rodia who were under night right now wouldn't get to vote until much later. But I asked no questions, I merely followed and kept my eyes roving the crowds of blue-skinned beings, acting as much like a bodyguard as I could. Inside, the polling officials kept a slight sense of order which threatened to erupt into chaos at the least provocation. One of them gave the senator an unabashedly stunned look as we walked up. "You're allowing yourself to be seen in public, senator?" he wondered. "In light of the -"

"As you can see, I have no worries," the senator quickly interrupted the official. "The Jedi are here to make sure that today's elections go smoothly. I trust you will work with them, as they are representatives of the Republic's highest esteem."

The official nodded furiously. "Yes, senator, of course. You wish to cast your vote, then?"

One of the hovering cameras zoomed strategically close to capture the momentous event. "Yes, I do. Are we prepared?"

I leaned over to whisper in Obi-Wan's ear. "This is so like elections where I come from. Only more heavily attended."

"Politics is among very few things which seem to have universal application," the young Padawan mused. "Just act natural. No one will suspect anything unusual."

It turned out, over the course of the day, that Obi-Wan was right. No one seemed to consider it all that strange that a pair of Jedi could be seen in the company of the incumbent senator at each rally and meeting that he appeared at. We did a lot of travelling throughout the better part of the day, to other large cities where strongholds of the senator's support waited to cheer him on. The Senate diplomats who had accompanied him to Rodia were nowhere to be seen, however, and Qui-Gon provided the reason when I finally asked him about it. "I informed them of the reason we had been sent here, and asked them to be prepared to leave this system at any time," he informed me as we sat quietly in the back of a low-orbit transport whisking us back to Equator City after one such rally. "Some are already on-board the senator's cruiser, and the rest I assume are waiting at his house, with his family."

"What about the election, though? Won't it run longer than nightfall, here, because of the other side of the planet?" I questioned.

"By nightfall on this side, the outcome will be easily projected," he answered coolly. "The main centers of population will have voted, all that will remain are small cities and uncivilized jungle lands. Hardly fair, I know, but we can have no say in the internal politics of even the most important Republic worlds." He glanced at me, seeming to anticipate my next question. "No, this is not one of them."

I grinned and left it at that. The transport was coming into Equator City, and we had to be ready the moment the door opened to make ourselves visible. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened all day, and that made my companions doubly alert - tense, anticipating, frustrated. They fully expected Beren Teeg to make his move sometime during the day, when the hovercameras were watching, so the whole planet could watch the horror of the senator's assassination. The fact that he didn't - and hadn't been seen anywhere all day - made Qui-Gon a bit irritable and Obi-Wan confused. I got the feeling they were used to having even the smallest margin of control over situations like this, but were extremely uncomfortable this time around, with nothing to go on and no course of action but to wait and guard the senator. Perhaps their tall, powerful stances and the concealing brown robes hiding their true threat were enough to make even the coldest assassin back down. Then again, I thought, probably not.

A speeder escorted us to the center of Equator City, to the government buildings where the senator was to meet his opponents for publicity shots and something akin to a collective rally. As we disembarked and started up the staircase to the imposing entranceway, Qui-Gon's comlink buzzed with an alert. He took it off his belt and activated it. "Yes?"

"Master Jinn, this is the head of security. You are with the senator, yes?" a Rodian voice wondered.

"That is correct. Is there a problem?"

"No problem, no, but something has happened. We have received a transmission from a Republic cruiser coming into Rodian space." He could hardly keep the excitement out of his voice. "They say they are your ship, your crew, and have brought back the ship which attacked them on their way to meet our escort many days ago."

Qui-Gon halted, bringing the whole party to a stop with him - apprentice, me, senator, and his entourage. "What did you say? Our cruiser? Can you confirm this?"

A brief pause. Then, "The transmission codes are the same. It is the ship on which you embarked from Coruscant, the Aurora 7. A human in control of it asked for permission to land, which we have granted for it and the Rodian ship as well."

"What?" I wondered aloud. Something did not seem right about that.

"Hold on," Qui-Gon said into the comlink. He then turned to all of us and announced, "It seems one part of the mystery is on its way to being solved. Our lost ships have come home, so to speak."

"Well, that is certainly good news," the senator said enthusiastically. "Your Republic troops have captured our runaway ship. I feel I can rest a bit easier, now."

"I don't know," I said, and from the looks some of the entourage gave me, my comment was most unexpected. I shifted my gaze to Qui-Gon. "Something's not right. I can't explain it."

Master Qui-Gon held my gaze with a serious frown. "Just tell me what you're thinking."

"Everyone on the Republic transport except the three of us were dead. Weren't they? You said you more or less confirmed that everyone had been killed."

"Yes, that is true..."

"Then who's piloting the cruiser? A human? What human? This doesn't make sense. Two ships, both stolen, can't disappear into hyperspace and then reappear more than a week later as if nothing has happened. I don't like the sound of that."

Qui-Gon stared hard at me, and then shifted his eyes to Obi-Wan, hunting his apprentice's mind for answers. "She's right, something is very wrong with this," Obi-Wan declared. "The disturbance in the Force, Master...it's grown stronger."

The Master activated his comlink again. "Security headquarters, do not let those ships land. Do you hear me?"

A buzz cut in, and then the voice again. "So sorry, Master Jinn, but permission was already given. They're on the landing pads at the spaceport as we speak. You're too late."

You're too late. An eerie choice of words, one that made Qui-Gon whirl commandingly toward the senator and his people. "Senator, you must get to safety immediately," he ordered, speaking in his customary low, calming hush. "Not your office, not the rally, not even your home. Some neutral place, where you can wait until I finish what I need, then we must get off Rodia as quickly as possible."

Scared, the senator nodded meekly. "There is a place...a-an upscale club at the verge of Equator Park. I have a private room there that no one knows about."

"Good. Go there, and let no one in but us when we get there. You -" Qui-Gon pointed to the members of the police force who accompanied us as ordered. "Go to the senator's home and get his family and peers to that club as well. We will meet you there shortly."

"Where are you going?" the senator demanded, panicked.

"I must make sure we can safely reach our ships - or there will be no leaving Rodia, for any of us." He waved a hand, and it had the effect of sending the Rodians into a rush, dashing back down the stairs and making for nearby landspeeders to transport them to safe places. Those still lined up on the stairs to enter the polling station watched, wondering, but they had no idea what was going on - nor did I, though I could hardly begrudge Qui-Gon his urgency. He gestured for me and Obi-Wan to join him as he also hopped down the stairs two at a time. "This may be what we've been waiting for, what Tix meant by 'the rest of it,'" he mused grimly. "Those ships shouldn't be here. We've got to find out who's piloting them and where they came from."

"No kidding," I agreed. "Shouldn't we head for the spaceport, though?"

"I want to hear the transmission for myself," the Master explained, and that was when I realized we were headed for the main security headquarters again.

The head of the force wasted no time in calling up the captured transmission from the Republic cruiser at the Jedi's request. A male voice sputtered from the communicator, giving the correct transmission codes for the Aurora 7 and informing security that the Rodian escort ship was in tow. As we listened to the audio-only communication, I felt a cold dread creeping up my back and prickling at my mind. I knew that voice. "That's him," I hissed anxiously. "That's the man I heard talking to Tix. Is that -?"

"Beren Teeg? Possibly." Qui-Gon rounded on the head of the force. "Can you contact them again?"

"No," the Rodian officer said helplessly. "All attempts at contacting them have failed. Communications are being disrupted from somewhere."

"Contact the governor's estate, then," the Jedi commanded. "He must know what is happening."

"What is happening, Master Jedi?"

Qui-Gon scowled. "Those ships are not here for refuge. I suggest you prepare your forces for a fight."

At that instant, a commotion in the front offices of headquarters turned our heads, though nothing could be made out for certain. The officer cursed in Rodian as he failed to raise anyone on the comlink. "All communication to the governor's estate is being jammed," he said in alarm, slapping the communicator as if that would make it decide to work. "What is this? Are we under attack, or what?"

"We might be," Obi-Wan said ominously, dropping his arms to his sides so that his robe fell open. His lightsaber hung ready from his belt. He glanced toward the door of the comm office where we gathered. "What in the world is that?"

The commotion and loud voices in the hall outside were suddenly interrupted by blaster fire. Two lightsabers were out and ignited before I knew it, and the Rodian officer yelped in surprise. "Fire in the office!" he realized.

"It's started," Qui-Gon said quietly. "We must get the senator off-planet."

"What's started?" the officer questioned, but there was no room for an answer. A group of security officers ran by the door, the last stopping only when a shout from his superior reached him. "What's going on? Blast it, Needar, what's happening?"

Officer Needar poked his head in the doorway. "Some of the force up and took over the office, sir," he reported breathlessly. "Said there was a new regime in control now."

"Everyone's in on this," Obi-Wan grumbled. "Even the police teams."

"We must get out. Now." Qui-Gon didn't wait for anyone else to move, he took the initiative and hurried out the door into the hall, following the fleeing officers like Needar. The green lightsaber powered down, but the blue took up the rear, and deflected a number of blaster shots directed at us as we made for a rear entrance and piled into the street. No sound of battle could be heard outside, but a dull roar as of many voices. "The people at the polling station," Qui-Gon realized. "They're still lined up, they don't know they're in danger."

"What will you do?" the head officer wondered of the Jedi.

Master Qui-Gon looked around indecisively. "Obi-Wan..."

"Yes, Master?" the Padawan said obediently.

"Go to the place by the park where the senator is waiting. Make sure everyone has made it safely there, and then get him to his ship. Meet us at our ship, have it running and the shields up before we get there."

"But Master," Obi-Wan protested concernedly, "you can't take this on alone."

"I'm not alone," Qui-Gon said wisely, his urgency tempered for a moment by a spark of good humor. "I don't intend on facing anyone in battle, I just must get the people from the polling station to safety before anything erupts. The security force has already been taken over..." He turned to the head officer. "I suggest you find as many of your troops who are still loyal to the law and band together. If communications have been jammed and disrupted, the governor is the one most in danger. His welfare, and that of your people, should be your concern."

The officer looked about to argue or call the Jedi a fool, but he could see and hear enough to know that he was right. "Yes, sir," he acknowledged. "Needar, help me out. We need to gather our forces."

"Yes sir."

Qui-Gon returned to his apprentice. "Obi-Wan, get the senator to his ship safely. His enemy may be about. If we encounter any trouble, I will contact you."

Obi-Wan nodded, though the look on his face spoke of the pain of being separated from his Master in such a time of need. "Yes, Master. Please hurry."

"I shall."

"What about me?" I ventured.

"You're coming with me. We need to get these people to their homes." Everyone split from one spot into several different directions, and I found myself following Qui-Gon's tall figure through the streets at a jog, heading back to the capitol grounds. The Rodians in line were murmuring anxiously to each other, but none of them suspected that weapons fire had been exchanged already and some unknown threat lay in the direction of the spaceport. Qui-Gon strode up and down the steps, his stature imposing enough to attract attention, as he carefully, calmly explained that there was some trouble brewing, and it would be in their best interests to return to their homes until it looked safe. Very few were willing to leave their place in line, however, and some just gave the Jedi contemptuous looks. None of them listened to me, I was nothing but a human stranger in their eyes, one who didn't belong on Rodia in the first place, let alone during elections. Just as I was getting frustrated, a distant but obvious explosion to the east made every Rodian in the capitol square stop and gasp. Within seconds, smoke rose over the blocky buildings of Equator City - black, raging smoke, followed by another explosion, closer this time. "Get to your homes!" Qui-Gon shouted, waving, and for the first time Rodians spurted past him. I took up his cry and walked up and down the lines, shooing beings away as they took one look at the billowing smoke pall and decided the warning was not a jest. The lines bled away quickly, leaving the capitol deserted except for a few security officers rushing toward the distant site of the explosions. Qui-Gon returned to my side. "Good, that did it," he said bluntly. "Now, we must get to the spaceport, and hope that it's not our ship which is burning."

"And hope we can get there," I worried, stepping down the stairs as quickly as he. "What's going on? Can you tell?"

"I couldn't say for sure," he replied, "but this has all the makings of a coup."

My heart tensed at the word. It held no personal meaning for me, these were not my people, but it carried with it connotations of violence, bloodshed, and an ill fate for the unfortunate who could not escape the system before being caught in the chaos. "No communications, the security force gone crazy..." He was right. I bit my lip to keep from cursing. "We've got to make it back to our ship."

"We will," he said with that strange, blank Jedi confidence. But as we rounded a corner, a sight met us which made me think, don't be too sure. A cluster of thin, spindly droids with blasters in hand had cut off a main intersection, and another wave came surging behind them, spilling into the side-streets. I knew what they were even before Qui-Gon said the words. "Battle droids. It looks like we've come full circle." He glanced at me with a sardonic smirk. "I seem to recall being in this position lately."

"How do we get past them?" I asked tersely. It was not as easy for me to shrug off fear as it was for him.

"Just follow me. I will take care of it." His lightsaber was in his hand, and as we stepped around the building behind which we had paused, he held it at his side, concealed in the sleeve of his robe. We walked straight toward the contingent of battle droids, acting as though we would walk right through them, until one called out for us to halt. "Let us pass," Qui-Gon said evenly. "We are not your enemies."

"Who are you?" the droid queried in its metallic, monotone voice. "No one is to pass."

"We are not your enemies."

A blaster shot zinged out from one of the subordinate droids, but Qui-Gon's saber flashed out and deflected it instantly. The sight of the green blade acted like a trigger, sending the droids into a battle frenzy. They launched themselves at the Jedi Master, firing, but he cut them into pieces which flew every which way without even breaking a sweat. A few more ran up from the second wave, but he deflected their shots back into them, knocking them sprawling, out of commission. I cowered behind him, but it quickly became apparent that fighting battle droids was not a strenuous task for Master Qui-Gon, and I was as safe as one could be. He said nothing, but took my hand and led me up the street, turning corners and finding new routes, the saber leading the way in case another attack should confront us. I ran with him, doing my best to lengthen my strides so I could keep up, ignoring the pain of exertion in my side and the breaths gasping raggedly in my throat. But the main thoroughfares of Equator City were filled with the mechanical battle force, driving us further and further from the spaceport with each twist and double-back. I began to despair that we would never reach the ship, that Obi-Wan would have to take off and leave us there. Qui-Gon, however, was not thwarted. The Force glowed in him like a raging fire. "Equator City was built upon a swamp," he said suddenly, as we paused in an alley leaning against the walls, panting and gasping. "Originally, Rodians made their way about on canals and waterways as well as on roads. Those waterways still exist, underneath the modern foundations."

"And you tell me this, why?" I said breathlessly.

"We'll have to find some other way to get to the spaceport," he said patiently, straightening up as though he needed no more rest. "I don't know if any of the old waterways empty near it, but we'll get as far as we can. It's our only chance." He straightened up, peeked around the corner of the building, and waved for me to come. Though tired, I pushed past the dull ache and found an unexpected reserve of strength which kept me running steadily behind the Jedi Master. Either he had studied the streets of the city well in his reconnaissance this week, or he was being guided by the Force, but Qui-Gon seemed to know exactly where to head to find these underground waterways. He quickly found a stairwell jutting out of the ground like a subway tunnel, its entrance marked with a solid stone arch, and dashed down the stairs into the darkness. Just as we reached the bottom, and I saw nothing but darkness ahead of us, he paused and looked back with a strange frown. I was about to ask him what the problem was, but he shook his head and continued forward into the black void yawning before us.

It became clear not twenty paces into the darkness, no light existed in the underground channels to guide the way unless we brought our own. I thought the lightsaber would be ignited again, but Qui-Gon astonished me by reaching beneath his robe and retrieving something off his belt. There was a faint click, and a tiny but powerful light glowed in his hand. "Always good to have one of these," he remarked quietly, handing it to me. It was just a small lamp with its incandescent bulb contained in the tip of a palm-sized fixture which rested neatly in one's hand. "Walk in front of me, it's safer that way," he advised.

"Safer?" I recalled the look on his face not a moment ago. "Is someone following us?"

He seemed reluctant to answer. "I don't know," he said at last. "But likely any threat will come from behind, not before. Lead the way."

"All right." I edged past him and held my hand up so the light would fall evenly on the walkway in front of me, and started down the tunnel. For tunnel it was, with wide sidewalks on either side of a narrow water channel which lay still and cool in the damp darkness. The stone ceiling was curved into a broad arch to properly support the earth and buildings above us. There was no air outlet, no wind, and the water had not been stirred in some time. The colder underground air was clammy with humid chill, feeling like dew on my skin where the sweat cooled. Our footsteps echoed dully in the arched space as we stepped briskly along the sidewalk, forced into urgency by the painful reminder that above us, a war was breaking out in the streets. We could faintly hear explosions, and now and then pebbles and dust would crumble from the ceiling as an impact or explosion rattled the very ground beneath which we traveled. Fortunately, there were no intersections or adjoining corridors, only the long waterway curving steadily to the east and north, and an occasional stairwell or lift from above where dim light from the overcast afternoon filtered down to us. Qui-Gon walked steadily behind me, solid as a stone, and just as silent. His strength lent me courage as I led the way, daring just about anything to come out of the shadows and face us. I began to feel important, even useful. Qui-Gon's silence contributed, as he never felt the need to correct or advise me as I carefully chose our path. Once or twice, though, I heard the rustle of his robe, and glanced back to see him looking over his shoulder. I could hear nothing but the hollow ring of our footsteps, but still, he was looking behind us every few paces. I had to know. "What? What is it?"

Master Qui-Gon's head swiveled forward. "Nothing, I hope."

"Is someone behind us?" I asked suspiciously.

"It's hard to tell," he replied. "These waterways echo badly. And the explosions make it hard to hear. Don't be afraid," he added immediately. "If someone followed us down here, friend or foe, they will not be able to get in front of us and ambush us. There's nothing to fear."

I faced forward again, keeping him from seeing the worried look on my face. Nothing to fear. Right. But I held out the lamp and kept walking.

Suddenly, Qui-Gon stepped right up behind me, placed his hand on my shoulder, and lowered his voice so it wouldn't echo. "Stacey...run."

"What?"

"Just do it. Don't look back, don't stop for anything. I will be right behind you."

I hesitated, but he squeezed my shoulder hard and gave me a push, so I had no choice but obey. I started at a jog, but he had not been kidding about being right behind me, so I picked up the pace and before I knew it, the two of us were racing down the sidewalk, the little light in my hand bobbing and weaving unsteadily through the tunnel. The echo of our footsteps banged across the arched ceiling, coming back to us in harsh waves, drowning out any potential sound before or behind us. The damp air made the sweat stand out on my forehead. I heard and felt Qui-Gon at my back, but then he suddenly wasn't there, and I heard the tell-tale whoosh of a lightsaber being ignited. Tempted to look back, I remembered what he said and kept going, willing my feet onward and feeling the hard concrete beneath my shoes. In moments he was there again, and now the vivid green glow of the saber added light to our path as we fled through the darkness. Another explosion shook the tunnel, dirt fell onto our heads as we passed, and then a portion of the ceiling caved inward behind us. Chunks of stone splashed into the waterway, and we both stopped running long enough to turn and look. "Oh my gosh..." I breathed in amazement. A black hole gaped out of the arched ceiling, and dust hung in the air, disturbed after decades of rest.

"The city is going to crumble around us if we don't hurry," Qui-Gon said concernedly, powering down his saber for a moment. "I only hope we're heading the right way, not closer to the conflict." He nodded his head, and I started off again at a jog, holding the lamp high. As I did, a blaster shot came out of the blackness behind us and knocked it out of my hand. The heat seared my palm as the bolt passed within millimeters of hitting me, and I snatched my hand to my chest with a yelp. The lamp tumbled to the ground and rolled into the water. Before either of us could react, yet another explosion in the streets above caused the tunnel to tremble, and I heard Qui-Gon suddenly gasp. His step faltered, and a wave of shock traveled from him to me through the Force. He whispered, "People are dying..." but could say nothing more, for in that exact moment, we both realized there was a third person with us. Everything seemed to happen at once: the saber lit up the cavern with green fire, the man leaped between us, I shouted, and Qui-Gon grimaced suddenly with pain. He brought his saber up and used the butt of the hilt to crack the stranger alongside the head, which sent him sprawling out of the way. Then I saw what had happened. Blood soaked the Master's tunic, just below his chest, and the black handle of a knife protruded from his ribs.

I heard myself scream, but it came from far away, as if from another time and place entirely. The stranger lurched to his feet, holding his head and swaying unsteadily, but ready to leap at Qui-Gon and finish the job. I jumped at him, felt my hands hit his shoulder, and used all the force my small body could muster to shove him completely over the edge of the walkway into the water. I heard the splash and a yelp, and saw him struggle to keep his head above water in the lurid green glow from the lightsaber. Qui-Gon reeled into the wall, and the saber's light dimmed, flickering unsteadily. He thumbed it off, leaving us in utter darkness. I reached out to him, finding the robe in my hands and then his strong arm, the one pressing a hand to the wound. "Master?" I managed to choke.

"I'm all right," he tried to assure, though it was far from the truth. He gasped for breath, and I heard a scrape as his lightsaber hilt brushed against the wall. "We must...hurry," he grunted, and made to move away. Instead, he stumbled and fell to his knees.

Never letting go of his arm, I was at his side immediately. "Master, let me help you," I hissed, as if trying to keep it a secret from the assailant spluttering in the waterway not five feet away from us. Qui-Gon took a deep breath, and I felt the warm metal of the lightsaber touch my hand where it lay on his arm. I took the saber hilt from him and held onto it as he gathered his strength - and the Force's power - and got to his feet again. "Come on, it can't be far," I encouraged, looking to the tunnel ahead of us. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see that a very dim light silhouetted the curve of the waterway far ahead, indicating that some sort of daylight was getting down to us. Some sort of exit. I grabbed Master Qui-Gon's arm with both hands and steered him toward that light, and he let me, taking cautious, unstable steps forward. We left our attacker behind, still in the water from what I could hear, though I wondered if we should have stayed and either captured or finished him off. His weapon of choice was still jutting from the Jedi Master's flesh, but he had a blaster yet, and who knows what else backing him up elsewhere.

The curve in the tunnel only led to more tunnels, and the dim light came from a stairwell on the opposite side of the waterway. I tried to hide the disheartening feeling creeping over me, but explosions above and an unrestrained bad guy behind kept me pushing forward, guiding the faltering steps of my Jedi companion. Qui-Gon, to his credit, did not complain or correct, but pressed on in silence, and I sensed the Force quivering around him as he sought its power to give him strength. Despite it, however, he was weakening, and blood continued to drain from his wound. His breathing was labored and ragged, his robe wet with sweat. His weight continued to sag toward my control, giving me more and more to carry as he could no longer support himself on his own. But it was too much, he was too big for me to support, and we both knew it. I resolved to continue regardless, but he seemed to sense that he was wearing me down, because he suddenly pulled himself out of my grasp and fell to the floor, rolling onto his back. "Leave me," he gasped, even as I knelt beside him. "Get...to the ship. Get out of here...before they kill you, too."

"You're not going to die," I told him, and unlike some desperate line of encouragement, I knew it for sure. "We're almost to a stairway, we've got to get above ground. I can't carry you, though."

"I...know. Just...go."

"No, Qui-Gon!" There was just enough light from the nearby stairway I had spotted that I could see his face contorted in pain, and the dark stain on the front of his tunic. The lines in his face seemed deeper, the moisture glistening on his forehead. I took the opportunity to clip his lightsaber back on his belt where it belonged, and then reached for his comlink. Fortunately, Obi-Wan's code was still in it. "Obi-Wan, it's Stacey," I called urgently.

Obi-Wan's voice came back immediately, sharp and anxious. "Where are you? There are droids everywhere, it's all I can do to keep them from shooting the ship off the platform!"

"Qui-Gon's hurt!" I yelled at him. "Bad. I need your help. You've got to come get us."

"Where are you?" he asked again, his voice suddenly hushed.

"Underground, in the waterway tunnels. I don't know exactly where."

"All right. I can trace your signal, it's not too far from here. I'll be there."

"Hurry! The guy who did it is still in the tunnels, too, but I think we lost him." I closed the channel and put the comlink back in its place, sighing deeply to keep my wits. This was not the situation I wanted to find myself in, but losing my head now would do neither myself nor Qui-Gon any good. I shifted my glance to his face, studying him. His breaths were shallow, but steady, his eyes closed. I rested my hand carefully on his forehead, feeling it burning under my palm, and his eyes slowly opened. "I called Obi-Wan, he's on his way," I let him know, though he had likely overheard.

"Good," Qui-Gon breathed.

"You'll be all right," I encouraged, "we just gotta get out of here." I looked around, hoping that nothing would appear out of the shadows now. "Who was that?" I wondered. "Was that Beren Teeg?"

Qui-Gon sighed gently. "I..don't know," he replied. "Likely. Where is he?"

"Last I saw, taking a swim." I smirked a little as the Master gave me a small smile. "What if he..."

"We will be safe," he declared, sure of it. "It takes more than that to get me out of the way."

I looked uncomfortably at the black handle of the knife, sticking so unnaturally out of his chest, though I knew it was wiser to leave it than take it out until we got to safety. Not wanting to wear him out with talking, I refrained from asking any more questions. I sat beside him and smoothed a hand over the hair pulled back from his brow. "Obi-Wan better hurry."

Obi-Wan did hurry, and found us much more quickly than I expected. It turned out that we were no more than ten city blocks from the spaceport, at the last entrance to the waterway before it curved back into the city. I saw Obi-Wan's robed form emerge hastily from the nearby stairwell and whirl to look around, and called out to him to get his attention. He dashed to us and fell to his knees beside the prostrate form of his Master, and I could see the worry on his young face even in the near-darkness of the waterway. "What happened?" he demanded, more of me than of Qui-Gon.

"The assassin. I think. We're running out of time," I said impatiently, frowning. "We have to get him out of here. I can't do this by myself."

Obi-Wan nodded and moved to help, but suddenly froze in place. In the same instant, Qui-Gon's hand shot up and clamped hard on his apprentice's arm, as if willing him to stop. Neither of them spoke or moved for a moment, then longer, and I began to wonder what had arrested their attention. Their faces were alarmed, angry, aware, and cold with a sense of expectation. I then noticed the dark corner of Obi-Wan's robe slide aside to reveal his light tunic and the saber hanging from his belt. Very quietly, barely audible, came words under his breath. "Stacey, don't move."

I obeyed without question. The saber came off the belt, rested easily in the palm of his hand, and his right foot shifted on the sidewalk. Then, I heard a foot fall behind me, and my heart clenched into a terrified fist in my chest. Obi-Wan exploded from his place, the lightsaber zinging to life, and jumped after a dark figure whose wet, angry face appeared suddenly in the blue glow of the saber's blade. He fired a blaster, but its shots were easily deflected, and Obi-Wan pressed in close with his weapon tracing blue arcs in the dank air. The man shouted, cursed, and dropped his blaster as the Jedi forced him out of hiding, out of safety, unsure how to confront a saber without having one of his own. I threw myself over Qui-Gon, careful not to jostle the knife, shielding him with my body as the combatants passed too close to us and kicked dirt in our direction. The attacker got close enough to give Obi-Wan a shove toward the water, but the Padawan was light on his feet and merely flipped to land easily on the edge of the channel. He got a running start and used his momentum to crash into the assassin and drive him straight into the wall. There came the thud of a body hitting the wall, a pair of stunned grunts, and Obi-Wan backed off to bring his lightsaber back into play. The blade hovered over the man's face, illuminating the visage of the one who had come so close to killing Master Qui-Gon. He was middle-aged, thin and ugly, with a thatch of black hair that hung in wet strands over his eyes. He stared at Obi-Wan with bitterness, panting, his eyes blinded by the glare of the saber. Then, he feinted a lunge, and dropped to aim a practiced kick at the apprentice's knees. Obi-Wan avoided it with a high leap, and his attacker cried out as the saber's tip grazed his back. As Obi-Wan landed, the man rolled out of the way and took off running, back down the black waterway. We could hear his faltering steps, his ragged panting, and something like a slip and near-dunking. In moments, he was gone.

Obi-Wan drew a deep breath to calm his excited nerves, deactivating his lightsaber as he looked away down the tunnel. "Let him go," Qui-Gon whispered, his voice startling both of us. His comment returned our attention to the matter at hand, and Obi-Wan dropped again to help me lift the Master to his feet and support him as we climbed the stairs to the street. Back in the wan sunlight, I could see that things were much worse than they sounded from beneath; the city was burning, Rodians were panicking, and battle droids marched everywhere trying to take and keep control. There were Rodians with blaster rifles, too, aiding the droids rather than fighting them, and we had to duck into alleys several times to avoid being discovered. I had never seen anything like it, but there was no time to react. All my concentration was on getting Qui-Gon to the ship so we could get out of this crazy place.

We stumbled through the spaceport and found it littered with droid parts, dropped weapons, and craters from blaster bolts. "I had a bit of trouble getting to the ship," Obi-Wan said gruffly, taking grim satisfaction in his work. I wondered at how many droids he had dismantled, all on his own, for there looked to be pieces of at least thirty or forty strewn about the ship and the entrance to the landing pad. Other ships were taking off with rapid frequency, fleeing the planet lest they be caught up in the violence. The ramp of our ship was up, but Obi-Wan left me holding Qui-Gon up while he activated the controls. Nothing else came to stop us; we hurried up the ramp, closed it, and I heaved a sigh of relief. "Get him into the cabin, have him lie down," Obi-Wan instructed me while Qui-Gon stood leaning against the bulkhead. "Do you know anything about medical aid?"

"A little...first aid," I said without much conviction.

"Good. See if there's anything you can do. I have to get us off this planet before they target us and shoot us down." The apprentice gave his Master an anxious glance before heading into the cockpit. The engines roared within moments.

I guided Master Qui-Gon into the rear cabin of the ship to the sleep couches and eased him to a seat, finding it much easier to help him now that we had reached our destination. He reclined on the couch with a pained sigh, his hand searching to find the wound and press on it. "Here, let me," I said, and clamped my hand down on his chest, around the knife. I searched my mind trying to recall the little things I had picked up from school classes and first aid crash-courses, knowing I had to stop the bleeding first of all. But the knife had to be removed, and that would do as much damage coming out as it did going in. The ship lurched suddenly as it took off, and an explosion thudded somewhere nearby, but it did not hit us. Obi-Wan deftly flew us out of the range of any more missile fire. The motion of the ship made me pause and wait before trying to do anything, and that gave me more time to assess the problem. The knife had expertly slid in between Qui-Gon's last two ribs, in and upward, with a keen skill only a well-trained assassin could display. I had no way of knowing if it had punctured a lung or sliced up any other organs, but I would have no way of aiding if it had. The Master's belt and sash wound around his body just below the wound, and I feared they might be a hindrance. "I need to take off your belt," I said awkwardly, trying not to flush red when Qui-Gon's eyes focused on me. "It's in the way."

"Of course," Qui-Gon agreed, his voice faint and hoarse. "Do what you must."

I undid the small buckle in front and loosened the belt, just enough to slide it around him so I could get at the real closure. It came away easily, and I set it gently on the floor beside the couch, careful not to bang the lightsaber or lose anything off it. The sash was just wrapped, easy to pull off. I could now place my hand comfortably over the wound and hold it in place, hoping it would be enough. I glanced into Qui-Gon's face, and he opened his eyes again. "And now..."

"The blade must come out," he said as firmly as he could. "Be...very careful. Do it...do it slowly, don't rush. First, though...the kit..."

"Kit?"

"Med kit. Should be in the...cabinet, there. It has everything you need."

He lifted his hand to take the place of mine, so I got up and went to where he indicated, finding what was undoubtedly a standard first aid kit right where he said. Inside were cloth bandages, antiseptic, and what was probably the spray-on glue-like instant bandage stuff I had read about in fiction. The labels, though, were printed in the looping, elegant symbol-letters of the Republic, which I couldn't understand. Cloth bandages, though, I knew what to do with those. I returned to Qui-Gon's side with the kit, and bunched up as many of the bandages as I could hold in one hand. "Get ready," I warned, "I hope I don't hurt you doing this."

"I...accept the pain," he grunted, and moved his hand away. I laid the cloth against the knife, ready to press them down hard as soon as the blade came out, and grasped the handle in my right hand. Slowly, gently, I drew it back along its deadly path, trying not to move it one way or the other lest it cut wider and do more damage. The instant the tip of the blade became visible, the cloth moved in to stop the blood which gushed freely from the opened wound. I dropped the knife and placed my other hand on top of the one already there, pressing as hard as I could, even though Qui-Gon's face registered incredible pain and weariness. There was nothing more to do but wait, and hold on.

In time, the blood ceased to flow, and Master Qui-Gon quieted, finding it hard to draw more than a shallow breath. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to meditate, withdrawing into the Force for healing, but even as I felt that, I could feel that he was weak, unable to focus his mind where it needed to be. His large hands lay limp on the couch beside him. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, something I would not have realized had I not been able to feel the cautious play of the living Force, and the subtle difference between his attention to its power and his loss of control. In time, Obi-Wan returned from the cockpit and knelt beside me. "How is he?" he wondered urgently.

"I don't know," I answered. "I got the bleeding stopped. Where are we?"

"Bound for Coruscant," he said absently, his attention focused on his Master. "We got out safely, as did the senator. They're ahead of us, but not by much. The autopilot can get us where we need to go." He reached up and brushed his fingertips gently along Qui-Gon's cheek, and smiled tenderly when the elder Jedi's eyes opened. "Master..."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered hoarsely, the tone of his voice warm and grateful. "Why aren't you piloting the ship?"

"We're beyond Rodian space. It's on autopilot." His hand slipped down and rested on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "How do you feel?"

A light sigh escaped the Master's lips. "It's hard to breathe. There may be...internal damage."

Obi-Wan looked down to the floor, where I had dropped the thin, long-bladed knife. "How unexpected. No one uses solid blades anymore. It's blasters or vibro-weapons."

"Not assassins," Qui-Gon corrected. "This one...was good. He got to me, he would've gotten the senator if we hadn't moved quickly. And no one would have suspected a blade. Easily concealed. Hard to search for."

"I don't know what more I can do," I broke in, nodding my head toward the handful of blood-soaked bandages I still pressed against the wound. "Can you do anything?"

"You've done well," Qui-Gon assured, his voice whispering out. "Very well. I must...just...focus on healing."

Obi-Wan looked concerned. "I felt your mind slipping out of consciousness, Master," he quietly said. "That's why I came back. Do you need my help?"

The Master's eyes traveled to his apprentice's face, and he looked like he would say no, but then he sighed again. "Perhaps I do."

"And you can help." Obi-Wan turned to me, his eyes pleading. "I know you have no training in Jedi healing and meditation, but we need you. Concentrate, feel the Force, and bring it to focus on healing Master Qui-Gon. I will do the same."

I nodded at him, and watched as he closed his eyes and drew a deep, calming breath. Qui-Gon also closed his eyes, so I followed suit. The Force felt like a light breeze against me, barely moving, barely touching, but as I concentrated on it, trying to capture the feeling, it surged like the breaking of sunlight from behind a cloud. I could feel Obi-Wan's vibrant presence beside me, Qui-Gon's beneath my hand, and sensed the intricate differences between the two of them. I got an intuitive feeling of the pain the Jedi Master was enduring, and remembered something I read about Jedi and healing. They thanked the pain as a signal their body was sending that there was damage, and welcomed it, in order to begin the healing process. I decided to do the same, even as I felt Qui-Gon's presence fade as he lost consciousness again. Obi-Wan only strengthened his meditation, his presence flaring in the Force, sending waves of strength and calm through the two of us and back into his Master. I thought to focus on the area of the wound, asking it to close, to heal, and in the process to alleviate the pain it caused. Then, unexpectedly, a signal beeping from the cockpit intruded on the meditative moment. Obi-Wan growled under his breath, so I looked at him. "Don't stop," he murmured as he got up from his knees. "I'll see who's signaling us. Keep going, you're doing well."

I closed my eyes again and continued to concentrate, feeling the Force, realizing that it was not dependent on a Jedi to manifest its power. Obi-Wan's absence did not cause the sparkling feeling to ebb at all; rather, as I let myself go and sank into the sensation, it continued unabated, stretching all around us, enfolding us, reaching into Qui-Gon and building in him. The Force was simply there, and all I had to do was think what I wanted of it, where I wanted it to go, and it did. I could have done just about anything with it in that moment, but the only thing I thought of, the only thing to even enter my mind, was healing Qui-Gon. I knew he would live, but it hurt to see him in pain, helpless, reduced from the powerful Jedi Master I had come to know well to an invalid. Trusting in that omnipresent Force, I let my hand ease away from the wound and knew it would not start bleeding again, even without benefit of bandage. Instead, I touched his arm, and it felt like electricity all through my hand, up into my head. You've got to get better, I willed Qui-Gon. There's a lot to be done, you have a lot ahead of you. Don't let this little cut slow you down. Obi-Wan needs you. I need you.

In time, the surging Force quieted to a calming ocean of power, still able to be felt and directed but in a reduced, unobtrusive way. I opened my eyes, and saw that Obi-Wan had returned, though he was sitting in a chair nearby, watching, his hands clasped before him and his elbows resting on his knees. "I can't believe it," he whispered. "You've done it. No training, no knowledge, but you began his healing." He glanced down for a brief moment, and then back at me, his eyes shining with wonder and humility. "Thank you. On behalf of Master Qui-Gon."

I shrugged, but was lost for words to say. Qui-Gon lay still on the couch, asleep now, his face tight with lingering pain but otherwise peaceful. "How long have you been here?" I asked Obi-Wan.

"A while. I didn't want to intrude, though. You were doing so well."

I looked away, embarrassed. He had to be kidding. "Who was signaling?"

"The senator's ship. They wanted to know what happened to Master Qui-Gon, and what we were going to do about Rodia." He snorted grimly. "I told them, nothing. We've done what we were sent to do. There is nothing we can do about what happened down there."

I nodded in acceptance, still gazing at Qui-Gon. It was all I could do to keep from thinking of another time I had seen him like this, a worse time, because Obi-Wan could not know about that. Not under any circumstances. I tried another line of questioning. "What should we do, now?"

The apprentice got up and came to my side, reaching for the med kit and the glue bandage. "The wound must be patched up. Everything else is up to the Force, and to the healers in the Temple when we return. The worst is past. He will be fine." He looked at me and smiled wanly, even as he prepared to bind the wound. "You did well. You saved his life - in more than one way."

I shook my head slowly. "I just did what had to be done."

Obi-Wan slid the tunic from his Master's shoulder and opened the under-tunic, getting a first good look at the ugly gash where the knife had pierced Qui-Gon's chest. It took just a few minutes for him to close the small but deep wound. "There. That should hold." Obi-Wan's hand fell on my shoulder. "Don't deny yourself the credit you deserve. You saved Master Qui-Gon. If he hadn't brought you along, the wound might have been fatal. I don't yet know what happened down there, but I'm sure you played a big part in preventing things from being a lot worse." His hand gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, nothing less than a caress, and then he got to his feet. "I have to monitor our flight. Will you stay with him?"

"Of course." I smiled daringly. "Do you even need to ask?"

"No, but I thought it would be the polite thing to say." Obi-Wan smiled back and drifted toward the cockpit again.

I got up and hunted around the room for a place to wash my hands, which were sticky and stained brown with Qui-Gon's blood. There was a closet-sized washroom between this part of the hold and the cockpit, where I could wash up and wet a towel to clean the wound. Returning to the hold, I sat down on the floor beside the couch and began to carefully wipe the blood away, astonished at how much he had lost. No wonder he was so weak and unable to stay conscious. The entry wound itself was small, maybe two inches wide at the most, and wouldn't leave too noticeable a scar once the binding agent Obi-Wan had sprayed on did its work. But Beren Teeg - I knew without a doubt it was he who had attacked us - was certainly good at his job. He had waited until the right moment, and placed the knife exactly where it needed to go. However, he had failed. Qui-Gon was not only alive, he would recover with little to show for his injury. I took great care in washing the dried streams of blood from the Master's hands, chest, and side, softening my touch so as not to do further harm. I didn't know how that binding agent worked, I didn't want to reopen the wound. After the turmoil of the day, especially the last hour or so, my mind was churning with a million different things, thoughts and emotions all tangled together and jumping from one to another like changing channels. The shaky sensations of fear and panic were fading fast, almost gone now, but I still worried instinctively over Qui-Gon and tried to calm myself from the adrenaline rush. It helped that he was doing well, sleeping as peacefully as anyone could in such shape. Anything less, and I would likely have been an anxious wreck, unable to be of much help. I smiled to myself. Look at me, helping. Even if he never found out what I had done for him, it was incredibly soothing to my wild emotions to know that I had helped him out, even saved his life, as Obi-Wan pointed out. The wet towel absorbed the blood quickly, leaving the area of the wound clean and free to heal properly.

My mind gradually returned from a worrisome state to something closer to normal as I worked, but when it did, my less-controllable emotions began to take too much pleasure in the way my hands ran over the Master's bare chest. Nice though it was. No! Stop that! I warned myself. He's hurt, for crying out loud! Behave yourself. I didn't want him finding out what I was thinking, nor Obi-Wan, for that matter. Fortunately, he slept soundly, likely exhausted. I finished and wrapped the under-tunic back around him, though it and the tunic itself were ruined, stained and slashed. His robe lay in a heap on the floor, so I picked it up and draped it over him in the same way he had draped it over me, making him as comfortable as I could. I glanced toward the ship's bow. Obi-Wan was busy, and trusted me to take care of Master Qui-Gon in his absence. Quite a change from when we first met, when he gave me suspicious looks and questioned Qui-Gon's decision to keep me around. I would have to thank him for that.

I turned my eyes back to Qui-Gon, to his solemn face, his unkempt hair. Such a good man, faithful and strong. He deserved better than this. Better than...but no, I couldn't think about that. It's going to be a long time before that happens. Why did I keep returning to think about it, though? Because until now, it was my most vivid recollection of Qui-Gon? Because seeing him lying on this cot reminded me of seeing him sprawled on a cold reactor floor? A peculiar sort of fear snuck up on me, then, making me want to reach out to the Master just to assure myself he was alive. I brushed his cheek with my fingers much as his Padawan had done earlier, and my heart pounded happily when I felt how warm and living it was. I brushed the stray strands of hair away from his face, smoothing them back where they were supposed to be, wistfully noting which were brown and which were gray. My hand traveled naturally to his cheek, and I couldn't resist running my fingers along his beard, feeling how coarse it was, but neat, how soft it could feel when brushed just the right way. I wondered how long it had been since someone caressed him this way, if ever, and I feared what he would say if he awoke at this moment. That fear made me pull back my hand instinctively, but I couldn't just sit there and stare at him. In moments the fear dissipated and let me return, though cautiously, taking his hand this time and holding it between mine, comparing how large it was next to my small, untested hand, how rough the knuckles, how callused the palms, how soft the fingertips. I lifted his hand and rested my cheek against it, feeling the throb of his pulse in the blood which coursed through his veins, and vowed to stay with Qui-Gon until he awoke. He had been so kind to do the same for me. Whatever lay ahead of us, when we reached Coruscant, and beyond that even, I wished and prayed that I would not be made to leave him. Either of them. I was in a strange land, now, and these Jedi were the only ones on whom I could rely. I would let nothing separate us.

On to part 9

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