I and my two Jedi companions were struggling along the road to the mine, seeking someone who could help Qui-Gon with the preparations for the traditional Jedi immolation for Niall Oberanu. Once again, Qui-Gon felt that the safest place for me was at his side, and I wasn't about to argue with him. His enemy had been destroyed, true, but there were other threats to us and I felt better prepared to face them with the Master and his apprentice close by. During the night, a bomb had exploded in the streets of Droste, and all morning, distant, muffled percussion drifted to us on the wind. Guns were firing along the border, both countries shelling each other before one could move a ground force in on the other. I didn't want to leave Colin's house, or even our bedroom, but Qui-Gon had things he needed to do, and insisted I accompany him and Obi-Wan. As cold, windy, and snowy as it was outside, I agreed, though now I was cursing my decision.

All of a sudden, the wind stopped and the sun broke through the clouds. I looked up in amazement, my body surprised at no longer needing to push against the force of the wind just to stand upright. Were it not so cold, I might actually have enjoyed the beauty of it all, for there was beauty in it. Completely different from the warm greenery of Chad or Rodia of course, but beautiful nevertheless, in its own stark way. The brown-robed Jedi did not stop, so I pressed on behind them, the snow beneath my boots crunching as my weight compressed it. I looked around, taking in as much of my surroundings as possible before it all disappeared again - for it will disappear, in another whiteout, of that I was certain. My eyes rested for a long moment on the sight of ghostly tendrils of blowing snow making their way eerily just slightly above the ground, and the pale disk glowing low in the sky as the sun fought the sheen of gray clouds. A questioning touch on my shoulder reminded me that I had stopped moving and I pushed onward once more. A quick glance forward made me groan faintly at the sight of another sheet of snow heading right for us, completely whiting out any sight of what could lie beyond it. As if in response, Qui-Gon murmured, "We're almost there."

Good, I thought, hugging my arms around me as the wind and snow blasted into us again. The Master proved correct shortly after, as the whirling curtains of blowing snow parted and let through a glimpse of the gray and brown hulks of outbuildings, their shapes nothing more than phantoms against the white and the fog. The forested hills marched right down to a line just beyond the mine, where the trees ended and the open fields across which we had come began. Qui-Gon headed straight for a door and opened it, ushering us into the warmth and calm of the mine office. A couple of people were working, and they all glanced up as we entered. One nervously slipped out of the room, bringing back a man I remembered meeting before. I had accompanied the Jedi to this mine before, a week ago, and this man had made it possible for us to meet with the angry woman whose husband Niall had killed. "Master Jedi," he greeted Qui-Gon stiffly. "What brings you here?"

"I was told you could help me with some arrangements I need to make," the Master replied tiredly, dropping his hood and hiding his hands in his sleeves.

The mine supervisor listened patiently while Qui-Gon outlined the supplies he needed, his cold look softening some as he understood what the Jedi asked of him. In the end, he nodded. "I can help you with that. I suppose you didn't have any luck elsewhere, hmm?"

"Everyone else I asked gave reasons not to assist me," Qui-Gon related. It was true, I had witnessed some of it. No one else wanted to have anything to do with the Jedi, even though they had caused no trouble to anyone in the grim completion of their mission. "I do have the aid of the militia in setting things up properly, I just need these supplies. I am prepared to compensate you to the fullest."

"Oh...well, of course. If you insist," the supervisor shrugged. He gazed a moment longer at the quiet Jedi and then sighed. "Nah, don't worry about it," he said instead, changing his mind. "If it was anything else I would hold you to that, but...this is for a funeral. No expenses need to be met, really."

Qui-Gon managed a pale smile. "Thank you," he said, bowing slightly.

"Let me go call a few hands to help you out. We've got a fair stack of wood in the yard out there, it's for emergency construction anyway. I'll have to dig a bit for the rest." With a curt smile, the supervisor disappeared into his office.

I stayed out of the way, standing quietly behind the Jedi, looking around the office and trying to read some of the papers, notices, surveys, and maps tacked to the walls of the mine headquarters. It was a futile attempt, but I didn't know what else to do. It was very uncomfortable for me to be around Qui-Gon, because he was in an extremely solemn, subdued mood and very closed-up. I think he had said no more than five words to me all morning, mostly related to wanting me in his company where it was safe. Obi-Wan was doing much better, thankfully, the only remaining effect of his injury the nasty-looking gash on the back of his head, beneath his ponytail. He watched Qui-Gon with alert eyes and moved to obey any given request immediately, never once questioning or commenting. As we waited in the office, the Padawan gave his Master a kind look. "That was good of him, to offer everything to us," he remarked.

"I will compensate him all the same," Qui-Gon softly said, turning to face the two of us. "The work has only just begun, though."

"I know, Master. I'm ready to help," Obi-Wan assured. His Master nodded and turned away again. Obi-Wan decided not to try conversation with him and glanced instead at a woman seated at a desk, monitoring a terminal which constantly updated its display with numbers and figures. "How are things, today?"

She looked up at him and smiled a little. "All right, I guess. No trouble, if that's what you mean."

"That's good, after what happened in the city last night." The apprentice's eyes flickered over the screen at her left hand for just a moment. "Is that a monitoring system for the mine?"

"Yes, it is." She smiled even more. "I'm keeping track of the miners on duty, and what's coming out of the mine." She sighed, then. "I just wish those figures were bigger."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan's eyes raised curiously. "There isn't anything wrong with the mine, is there?"

"Well, you know. Times get tough. No resource lasts forever, we just wish it did." Someone across the office cleared their throat, making the woman look sharply around as if she had been discovered gossiping. "Well," she tried to conclude, "it's workers we really need now. About the only ones sticking around are the off-worlders, mostly Wookiees and Talz. All the men are off to fight in the war. Hope that comes to an end soon," she added with a hopeful glance up at Qui-Gon.

The Master had been standing still on the other side of the office, but I knew he was listening to every word that passed between the worker and Obi-Wan. At her glance, he stirred and looked around the room with a wise air. "The Droste mine is failing, isn't it."

"I wouldn't say failing," the woman nervously broke in.

"It's all right, I know more about it than you may think. There wouldn't be such fierce fighting if there were no reason for it," Qui-Gon rationalized. "And the reason is, the mines are all failing. Here in Reva as well as over in Thara. You need new sources, and there are none."

"If only the rumors about the Dospara were true," the woman sighed, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and the computer screen. "But, from what I hear, that's not what you Jedi were here for. If only you could help us somehow."

"It is not us who can help, only you can help yourselves," Qui-Gon murmured, sadness and pity in his voice. He straightened up as the supervisor came from his office, a datapad in his hand and a somewhat cheery look on his face. "Well?"

"We do have what you need, after all," the man said warmly. "A couple of my guys will meet you out back in the yard by the lumber stack, they'll give you a hand loading it all up."

"I am grateful for your help," Qui-Gon said, bowing again.

"It's a grim task. I don't envy you," the supervisor said.

"Thank you." With a nod, the Master directed me and Obi-Wan to go on out. As he followed, he told the miners, "and though you offered out of kindness, you will still be compensated. I will have the dactaries transferred to the mine by this evening. You could use it, I'm sure."

The supervisor stared after him, unable to say anything because the door closed behind us. Qui-Gon started immediately across the yard, leaving me and Obi-Wan to follow in his wake. "Wow, that's got to suck," I muttered to Obi-Wan. "Their mines are failing, and there's nowhere left to mine except the Dospara? Poor people. I feel kind of bad for them."

"Both the Revin and the Tharin share in this desperate fate," Obi-Wan informed me. "If only they would stop fighting long enough to realize they're both in trouble, maybe they could work together to save themselves."

"That's what Adi's trying to get them to do," I remembered. The Jedi Councilor had left us early that morning, saying she had much to do and preferring not to say what. She only took Qui-Gon aside and whispered something to him before sweeping out the door, and he started to protest, but a look from her and a silent moment between them, and he relented. Only he knew what her plans were, and nobody was going to get them out of him, that was certain.

"And she didn't seem to want our help," Obi-Wan noted, perhaps also recalling what had happened that morning. "Master Qui-Gon has offered, since it will be two days before our transport arrives from Coruscant and we have little else to do. Except this," he added solemnly as we approached a handful of miners hanging around a very large pile of stacked, cut lumber.

"And Adi said no?" I mused about that for a moment, but my thoughts returned to the plight of Salji. If she couldn't get a cease-fire in place before leaving the planet, it would be up to the team of Jedi peacekeepers she had requested to try and prevent all-out war, though it was looking to me like it was too late for that. Between gusts of wind which sang in the fir trees behind the mine, I could hear the far-away thud of guns pounding away at the border. Get me off this planet, I begged of the universe at large. Two days can't pass fast enough. But Master Qui-Gon was starting to get to work, so I shrugged off my contemplation and stepped near to offer whatever help I could.

The angry wind chased us all the way back into Droste, whipping the Jedi robes into woolen cocoons around their wearers, and I was grateful when we found ourselves back within the familiar confines of the Goeben home. It was deserted, and there was no indication that Adi Gallia had been there during our time away. Qui-Gon continued to work without stopping, storing the mining sled stacked with lumber in the garage where the fateful duel had taken place. Obi-Wan explained to me that the wood had to be treated so that it would burn hotter than usual, but that was about all I wanted to know, so I cut him off there and changed the subject. Qui-Gon took care of the treatment himself, so Obi-Wan stayed with me indoors, making sure anything that belonged to us was packed for the journey home and sort of straightening up everything else. The house-servant had gone south with Colin's wife and children, to help look after the young ones, so the Goeben house was starting to fall into disarray, especially after a couple of days of Colin's attempt at cooking. The Padawan chided me, "I don't suppose you can cook?"

"Of course I can cook!" I snorted at him. "It's just...well, here, it's different."

"How is it different?" he wondered, poking around in the refrigeration unit. "You have bread, meat, fruits, and such, don't you?"

"Yeah..." I peered over his shoulder, but he apparently didn't find anything interesting, because he closed the door. "But it's different. Animals and plants are different, I haven't seen a cow or an apple tree anywhere in this galaxy. I'd cook something, but I'm not quite sure what's what, or if it'll have the same taste if I put it all together just like I do where I come from."

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You could always try it once. An experiment."

I smirked at him. "Maybe when we get back to Coruscant."

"Is that a promise?" he wondered, perking up.

I shook my head and slapped his shoulder, though inwardly I was glad to see him joking. Neither Jedi had been much in the mood to smile in the past day, certainly not Qui-Gon, so a moment of mirth was definitely welcome. "Can you cook?"

"Me?"

"Yes you. No, that other Padawan over there. Of course you!"

Obi-Wan cocked his head to one side, thinking. "Well, yes. I don't often, but I can."

"Then I think dinner should be up to you tonight." I started randomly opening pantry doors, looking for absolutely nothing but at least making a show of it. "Colin and Adi will be pleasantly surprised when they come home and find dinner already made."

"Master Adi's not coming home." I looked sharply at Obi-Wan when he said that, staring, so he quickly stammered an explanation. "At least, I assume she won't be back for dinner."

"Obi-Wan," I said warningly. "Do you know something?"

He shook his head with an honest expression. "I can only speculate. She told no one but Master Qui-Gon what she planned. But...I think I know what she might be up to. And if I'm right, we'll have one less place at the table tonight. But don't worry," he added. "She is a Jedi Master. She knows what she's doing."

I frowned at him, but accepted his explanation since none were forthcoming from Qui-Gon. It didn't stop me from wondering where Adi could have gone, or whether she expected to put herself in danger much like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had. I didn't have the depth of feeling toward her as I did for the Master and Padawan, but I still felt a minor twinge of concern and silently wished her luck wherever she was.

Dusk fell, and still Adi did not come home. In fact, she never showed up at all, while the evening turned into dark night and we made to retire. Qui-Gon was completely unruffled about it, which did little to stop my wondering, but did make me relax and not worry. If Adi Gallia was in trouble, he would likely have been pacing the floor waiting for her or running out somewhere to look for her. But he sat quietly all night, allowing Obi-Wan to make a fuss over dinner, talking to Colin to ease his similar concerns about Adi's whereabouts without revealing any information, and relaxing in a chair with something to read until the night grew old and it was bedtime. His mood had barely improved all night. At least he had gone from somber and melancholy to a more peaceful calm, though I dared not reach out to him with the Force to find out exactly what he was feeling and why. The intensity of his emotions scared me, and I preferred not to know, even though I watched him all night, desperately trying to think of a means or reason to help him feel better. Seeing him so withdrawn, his mood was contagious. Obi-Wan was fairly quiet himself, and I started feeling depressed as well. It was because of Niall, one didn't have to be a Jedi to guess that. But I had no idea how to get Qui-Gon to stop thinking about it, and after a while, lacked the desire to even try.

Sitting on the edge of the alcove bed with my feet dangling loosely off the end, I looked up from my journal when I heard Qui-Gon enter the room. He had just showered, and came in with his long hair still damp, hanging in wet strands around his face and down his back. He gave me the slightest of smiles as he wandered in and crossed to where Obi-Wan knelt on the floor, immersed in meditation. As if sensing his Master's presence, Obi-Wan awoke and glanced up, acknowledging him with a soft, "Master."

"Obi-Wan. How is your head?" Qui-Gon wondered.

The Padawan seemed surprised by the concern. "Fine, Master. It doesn't even hurt."

"Perhaps I should take a look at the cut."

Obi-Wan stared at him a moment, wondering, but he was not one to protest such an offer, so he shifted his knees from under him and sat down in front of Qui-Gon even as the Master was lowering himself into a chair. I watched them, my heart thudding over the beautiful tableau they made: Obi-Wan remained still, his face blank except for a twitch now and then as Qui-Gon's fingers brushed a tender spot, while his Master gently inspected the cut, threading through his apprentice's short hair as he did so. In a short time, he rested his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "It's healing well," he remarked with a warm note to his voice. "Forgive me if I've neglected your care, Obi-Wan. I've had a lot on my mind since yesterday."

"There's been no neglect, Master," Obi-Wan assured immediately, glancing over his shoulder with a smile. "I understand. I know I would be more than a little shaken if I were forced to..." His jaw tightened, but he couldn't avoid saying it. "...kill another Jedi."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily. "I am indeed more than a little shaken. I'm sorry I haven't been more present."

"It's all right," I broke in softly. They both looked at me, their eyes dancing with hidden smiles. "You haven't done anything wrong. We're okay. But...are you okay?"

The Master stared absently at the top of his Padawan's head in front of him, mulling it over. "I don't know," he finally answered. "But in time, I will be. It's just..." He sighed again, and got up from the chair with a pat on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "...I ask you to give me a little time. There are many things I need to think through."

"Of course," I murmured, gazing up at him as he came to the alcove and sat down beside me on the bed, making like he was going to crawl past me and lie down at the far end. I wasn't working on my journal, only reading past entries, and so decided to put it aside and go to bed as well. Obi-Wan silently followed, and in mere minutes the lights were out and we were all stretched out beside each other - me in the middle again - with a feeling of heaviness weighing us down as we tried to sleep.

Though it was hard to keep from replaying the events of the past two days in my head, I managed to settle down fairly quickly and found myself dozing on and off, catching brief snatches of sleep. Obi-Wan was as restless as ever, and seemed to always be facing a different way every time I woke up and turned to look at him. His motion wasn't what kept me awake, though, it was the constant strain of worry in my mind, worry for Qui-Gon. He lay still on my left, his hands clasped on his chest and his breathing even, but after sharing this community bed for so many nights I could tell just by the way his presence felt, he wasn't sleeping. I rolled onto my side, blinking in the darkness for a little bit, and then reached out tentative fingertips to brush his arm. His sleep-shirt - a spare undertunic - felt rough like linen, and the slight tug made him turn his head. Even in the black shadows of the alcove, with little stray light to see by, we found ourselves staring at each other for a long time. I was afraid he was going to say something, tell me to go to sleep or mind my own business or something, but he didn't. Avoiding the power of his gaze, I watched the dim movement of my fingers absently combing damp strands of his long hair off his near shoulder. "I wish I could make everything all right," I whispered hesitantly. "I don't like to see you hurt, and stand by and do nothing."

I felt his breath sigh against my skin, a very tiny chuckle. "Just hearing you offer such a thing makes me feel much better," Qui-Gon murmured, rolling onto his side to face me. "Thank you for your care."

"Of course I care," I continued to whisper. "Remember back on Chad?"

He was silent for a moment, but in that pause I suddenly felt a tingle of the Force brush against my mind, bringing with it a sense of affection. As if to mirror it, Qui-Gon's hand brushed against my arm. He delicately whispered, "You always seem to be here for me when I need you."

"I'll always be here for you, Qui-Gon," I bravely declared, even though there was probably no way I could back up such a daunting cliché. No matter, he probably would not hold me to the promise anyway. I instantly felt silly for saying it, even though I yearned to make it the truth.

The bed suddenly sank as the Master inched closer to me, and his arm reached over my waist to pull me closer to him. I found myself lying on my back with a heavy-hearted Jedi Master hugging me into his chest. He held me tightly for just a moment, and then relaxed and lifted his head. I held my breath as I felt his lips press lightly to my forehead, and his bearded chin tickled the top of my nose. It was over in an instant, and he was lying beside me again, his head nestled half on my pillow and his arm around me, the warmth of his kiss cooling on my forehead in the chill of the room. "Thank you," he whispered, and that was all. Not long after, I sensed him slip into a light slumber.

There was no way I was going to sleep now. My heart thudded in my chest like war drums, and I had to hold myself very still so as not to disturb Qui-Gon's sleep even though I wanted to wriggle around in excitement. A glance to my right sobered me, though, as I took in the silhouetted form of Obi-Wan stretched out beside me on his stomach, with a pillow bunched in his arms in a strangle-hold. He was fast asleep, but in the near-darkness I could see that his face was tense, his jaw clenched. I hoped he would stay sleeping, because the last thing he needed to wake up and see was his Master and me all tangled up together. Or, so I thought. Neither of them had so much as given me a stray smile or wink in the other's presence while on Salji, from all outward appearances the three of us were certainly just friends and nothing more. But I expected that. They had to bury their feelings so that they could do their duty, naturally. Duty, however, was over, and in a day and a half or so we would be back on a ship on its way to Coruscant. What would happen to me then? What would happen to us?

That line of thinking made my mood darken even more, though, so I steered away from it and tried imagining what sorts of things we could do once we got back to the Core, back to the Temple, in order to tire out my brain and get it to go to sleep. I got no further than dreaming up a scenario featuring Obi-Wan's suggestion that I try my hand at cooking before I was out; or at least, that was the last thing I remembered when I woke again later and tried to figure out where I was. My right arm was numb, and trapped. Something soft and feathery was tickling my nose, and the rich scent of a man came to me every time I breathed. It was a clean, sweet scent, making me think of Obi-Wan as I struggled awake. To my utter surprise, it was in fact Obi-Wan. My vision was almost completely filled with a view of the top of his spiky-haired head, for he was lying with his cheek pillowed on my shoulder, one arm flung recklessly over me on top of the blankets in a similar hold to the one he had had on the pillow earlier. Qui-Gon was sprawled out away from me, one hand limp and palm-up on the blanket beside me, the other clenched on top of his chest. He was deeply asleep, as was his Padawan.

I looked down and squinted in the dim darkness. I could just barely see the outlines of Obi-Wan's face, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering softly as he dreamed, his delicate lips parted slightly as he breathed. I could even see the mole on his right cheek, and nearly laughed as I realized it was in exactly the same place as Ewan McGregor's. This just gets stranger and stranger, I mused to myself. I could just turn my head slightly and bury my nose in Obi-Wan's hair, kiss the top of his head, do just about anything I wanted. It was almost too easy! But I did nothing, because lying there serving as the Padawan's pillow was reward enough for dealing with the insanity of the life I had been thrust into. Then, he stirred, and my heart leaped up into my throat as he picked up his head and opened his eyes, groggily attempting to recognize his surroundings. An exasperated groan escaped him as he shifted back onto his elbow, though his other hand remained firmly wrapped around me. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

"It's okay," I whispered back, unable to contain my grin. "Just go back to sleep."

To my dismay, he extracted his arm from its place and rolled over, rubbing his face with both hands before settling down in another position. "I thought it was my pillow..." he mumbled as he drifted off again.

Oh, man! I mentally exclaimed. What did I do to deserve this? God, never mind what I was complaining about before, thank you for sending me here! I took a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart, completely sure that I wasn't going to be able to sleep the rest of the night. My right arm tingled from being pinned beneath the Padawan for so long, so I dragged it with me as I flopped over onto my stomach, half-facing Qui-Gon, who hadn't stirred a muscle through all of this. I tried to quiet down, though my mind insisted on reliving every nuance of the past few minutes of consciousness with repeated emphasis on the details. I chided myself on not taking advantage of the position, even though I knew myself well enough to know I wouldn't have done so regardless. Even now, the Master's large hand was splayed out next to me, right in my line of sight. I could have simply laid my hand on top of his and let come what may, but I didn't. Instead, I squeezed my pillow hard in my arms and tried to get myself at least a couple of hours of sleep. How embarrassing it would be to wake up in the morning and have to explain to the two of them why I didn't get any rest!

Day had come and light had returned to the room when I was finally woken up by murmured voices. Our guest quarters were always very cold during the night, but the community bed served its purpose well, for I was always nice and warm. It was no different now as I slowly became aware of the time and place and steeled myself to deal with another early morning. I was enveloped in warmth, and realized after a second that the extraordinarily close proximity of bodies was responsible for it. Then Qui-Gon muttered for about the fifth time, "Obi-Wan?"

The Padawan grumbled incoherently, I could hear him behind me - very close behind me.

"Obi-Wan, is that your hand?"

I felt movement across my side, as a hand slid away from where it had rested. "Sorry, Master."

"Hush, you'll wake Stacey," Qui-Gon's voice murmured back. It was also very close to me, so I opened my eyes and picked my head up from where it rested in the cradle of my arms. My sleepy gaze met Qui-Gon's, and a weak smile touched his lips. "Good morning."

"You didn't wake me," I assured before he could say it, groaning and trying to stretch. Everything suddenly registered: I was lying on my stomach, exactly as I had been when I last fell asleep, only now, my right leg was flopped intrusively over Qui-Gon's and I was snuggled right up to his side. He was on his back, one arm crooked beneath his head to accommodate my position. Obi-Wan was still somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, his face resting most comfortably between my shoulder blades. The arm that had been draped over me, prodding his Master in the side, was beneath the blankets and still holding on to my waist. I was instantly wide awake and trying to extract myself. "What time is it?"

"A bit later than I had hoped to get up, but we did need the rest," Qui-Gon replied, his eyes still on me as I nudged Obi-Wan off me and propped myself up on my elbows. The Master smiled. "I didn't have the heart to wake either of you."

"Thanks," I mumbled with a cheesy attempt at a grin. I gave Obi-Wan a quick glance. He scratched idly at his chest, along the collar of his undertunic, and gave me a sleepy look back. "Morning," I said to him.

"It is, isn't it?" he remarked dryly, huffing a short sigh before sitting up and ruffling his hair. All three of us sat there in silence for a while, until Obi-Wan decided to get up and head for the refresher.

I flopped back into my pillow, but Qui-Gon sat up slowly, and I heard a couple of pops that made me snort out loud. "Was that your back?" I wondered of him.

Trying not to laugh, Qui-Gon rubbed at his lower back with one hand. "My body isn't as young as it used to be," he casually pointed out. I just grinned to myself, finding it incredibly funny for some reason. It was proof that these two Jedi were in fact as real as I was, real flesh-and-blood humans not much different from those who populated my home planet. Not about to be embarrassed for himself, the Master stretched his long arms out in front of him, forcing only minor cracks from his joints. I had to cover my head with my pillow to stifle my giggling, not sure why I was so incoherent this morning. Must be lack of sleep. And I know who to blame for that.

Calming myself down with difficulty, I moved the pillow and looked up at the Jedi Master sitting comfortably beside me, sweeping his hair back from his face with one hand and reaching for the leather tie that kept it bound back from his brow with the other. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did," he admitted, retrieving the tie from one of the little niches in the side of the alcove and swiftly tying back his hair. He was so practiced at it that he could do it in seconds and get it perfect. I was jealous. "Thank you."

I shrugged. "It wasn't anything I did. Feeling better?"

He sighed. "Some. I think, though, I will spend some time in meditation today. Alone," he added with a soft glance at me. "Would you mind keeping Obi-Wan company for a while?"

"Sure," I said with another shrug, though it wasn't Obi-Wan whose company needed keeping. He couldn't fool me. "When are you...when is the...the funeral?"

"Sunset," Qui-Gon answered, his voice heavy again. His eyes shifted from his hands in his lap to my face. "You don't have to be there."

"I think I should," I decided, looking up at him with concern. "Someone should. You shouldn't have to be there alone, no matter what you told the Council."

"Are you sure? Because you have a choice. You may stay here if you don't want to see it." His gaze softened with sadness. "I don't expect you to join me. You didn't know Niall, you have no connection to him."

"I know, but..." I was finding it difficult to explain my feelings, so I gave up and tossed up my hands briefly. "It's my choice. I'd like to be there, if you'll let me."

Qui-Gon held my gaze, I felt like he was testing me. But he merely nodded. "It will be at sunset. I have to finish the preparations, but I will be back well before then. We can all go up together."

I nodded my agreement and scooted aside as he made his way out of the alcove and toward the door, passing Obi-Wan along the way. The Padawan smiled gently at me as he reached for his tunics to get dressed, and I smiled back, recalling the adventuresome night we had shared. Interesting, that all we had to do was get rid of Adi Gallia for one night, and the three of us were suddenly all over each other. The trip back to Coruscant was going to be very interesting indeed.

*****

A velvet hush lay on the fields and forests around Droste as night drew on behind the persistent mask of clouds, a hush which felt as deep as the snow. Everything was blue and gray, and washed out without shadows after we hiked beyond the well-lit outskirts of the city toward an open stretch of country where the funeral would be held. Wrapped up warmly in the borrowed gray coat and a soft scarf, I kept pace easily with the Jedi despite a slight limp, for Qui-Gon was walking slowly, as if each step pained him. His lighter mood from the morning had faded the closer we got to the appointed time, though his solemnity was more reverent and less anguished now. A militia tractor-sled had passed us already, carrying the fallen Jedi's body to where the pyre was set up, taking care of that last detail for us. I thought about it and was glad, because I didn't really want to stand there and watch Qui-Gon try to haul Niall onto the pyre. As we walked I glanced up, hoping to see some shred of twilight breaking through the clouds, a star, a pearly moon, anything. But it was cloudy and oppressive, with an odd feeling of apprehension. The wind was dead calm, and the air wasn't as bitter as it had been lately, and I wondered if maybe it was going to snow again.

Qui-Gon led the way along the road down into a valley, and ahead of us I could see, just off the side of the road, a small structure built in the snow-field and the militia sled parked next to it. As we drew closer, I could see the footprints where the snow had been packed down for ease of movement, making a sort of ring around the stack of wood. My heart started to stab with pain, for I could see the lifeless form of the Chagrian Jedi lying in state on top of the pyre, and it awoke a dormant memory deep in my mind. I had been existing in this strange galaxy long enough to begin to forget home, forget the movies and the discussions I had with friends about them. Over the course of the time we spent on Salji, I had even forgotten about the scenes which introduced me to the Jedi tradition of immolation. But now I remembered it all, and my breath caught in my throat in a little gasp. I covered myself by pretending to cough, and desperately steered my thinking away from what this moment reminded me of.

One of the men stepped forward as we crossed into the field and met them beside the cold pyre. "Will you be needing anything else, Master Jedi?" he asked of Qui-Gon.

Master Qui-Gon shook his head. "That will be all, thank you. I am in your debt."

The soldier shrugged it off. "We'll come back later tonight, to make sure the fire burns all the way down. Even here in the snow we have to tend all open burnings."

"I understand." Qui-Gon nodded curtly, and the men piled back into their tractor and drove off. He waited until they had gone and the whine of the engine disappeared over the ridge before turning to me and Obi-Wan. "I want to thank you both for being here with me. Neither of you had to accompany me."

"It was the right thing to do," Obi-Wan murmured with a gracious look up into his Master's face.

Qui-Gon laid a hand on his apprentice's shoulder and squeezed it, a painful look flitting across his face for just a moment, and then withdrew and faced the pyre. It was built as high as his shoulders, so at least I couldn't really see much of Niall from my height. He reached up to arrange the Chagrian's robe one more time and then brought something out from under his own robe. It was Niall's lightsaber. I didn't realize he had kept it when the militia had carted the body off to the morgue. Qui-Gon laid the silvery hilt so it rested in the palm of the cold blue hand, and then took a step back and folded his hands into his sleeves. He stared for a moment, a slight breath of wind stirring his long hair, and then took a deep breath. Almost at the same time, he and Obi-Wan both lifted the hoods of their robes to cover their heads. The Master paused, then, looking up at the face of his comrade and enemy. "Niall Oberanu," he said quietly, pronouncing the name heavily. "You are now one with the Force. Go to your sweet sleep."

He drew his lightsaber and held it in front of him, powering it on and delicately sliding the blade down in between the beams of timber. The tip of the emerald blade ignited something deep inside, and in seconds the flames were racing along the slats and licking slowly upward. Qui-Gon stepped back, putting away his lightsaber and wrapping his arms around himself again, his eyes never leaving the growing light of the fire. I huddled down into the collar of my coat, cold and a bit scared, unable to look away as the funeral flames groped upward and a spark caught the Jedi's clothing. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood on either side of me, not fidgeting or avoiding the reality of death in front of us, their faces hidden from me by their hoods. I could only see the end of Qui-Gon's nose, his lips and bearded chin, as he continued to stare into the blazing pyre, hardly blinking. We were a safe distance back from it, but I could feel the heat increasing, its touch like a blush on my cheeks that kept growing hotter. I was captivated by a morbid curiosity, wondering how long it would be before the body itself would burn, what it would look like or if it would smell. I guessed I wouldn't be able to stand there for long, but I was determined to support Qui-Gon for as long as I could possibly hold out. I tried not to fidget, but the anticipation of what was to come was making me nervous. I didn't want to disturb my companions from their contemplation. Qui-Gon had indeed meditated during the day, as he intended, but this time was meant for reflection, for remembrance. His mind was probably a million miles from here and now.

The night crept softly in and sank down on us, the darkness held at bay only by the fierce orange flames which kept growing. At least twice Qui-Gon moved us back a few steps from the pyre, when the heat got to be too much. The second time, I noticed that the tongues of fire had completely engulfed the body. Niall was disappearing. For a moment I had to hold my breath, fighting off a bout of nausea, but it passed quickly and I was fine. I stood diligently at the Master's side for a long time, though my gaze drifted now, I didn't want to watch. Both Jedi remained still and composed, wrapped in a heaviness that not even the Force could penetrate. I jumped when some of the wooden beams burned through and collapsed in on themselves, but Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan did not. Rippling outward from the pyre, the blazing heat carried with it a stench, making me hold my breath again and wince. It was getting too hard to handle. Obi-Wan must have sensed my discomfort, for his head turned and I heard him murmur, "Are you feeling all right?"

I shook my head, and gasped a quick breath, pulling a fold of the scarf up over my face. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"Why don't you step away, for a while?" Qui-Gon kindly offered, even though he never looked down at me. I glanced up at him, realizing he was not annoyed by my lack of fortitude but rather concerned for my well-being, and nodded. I touched him gently on the arm as I turned, and he finally glanced down to acknowledge it before I stepped away.

I retreated along the tamped-down pathway to the road, finding a rock jutting out of the snow that had enough of a clear surface to sit on. It was cold, but it was the best seat I could find out here. I was far enough away from the pyre to escape its heat and sight, but the snow around my feet was still golden from the far-off light of the flames. My stomach was queasy, but after a few deep breaths of cold, crisp air, I felt better, and settled down to watch from a distance. Two tall silhouettes maintained their vigil, with hardly a flutter of their robes to be glimpsed. I stared long at Qui-Gon, and once again the memory of a movie scene flashed into my head. It was too much, I felt hot tears in my eyes and swallowed hard to make them go away before they froze. He's not dead, he's not dead yet! I reminded myself. Look, he's standing right there! But he would die, sometime. And soon, if I remembered my timeline correctly. But I didn't want to lose him, I didn't want to attend another funeral pyre. At the same time, I had no intention of telling him what was going to happen to him. Over the past two days, watching him mope about, I knew there was no way I could possibly burden him with the knowledge of his own impending death. If he was this affected by the death of another Jedi, one he didn't know at all and who had actually fallen from the Order, how much worse a shock would it be to him to hear me tell him that within two or three years, he himself would be impaled by a lightsaber and die in the line of duty?

That was it. I decided right there, I would never tell Qui-Gon what his future held. Nor Obi-Wan. I couldn't do that to them. I lifted my head and gazed sadly at the two Jedi holding vigil, encased in their robes and silent, and vowed on the stars above that I would not destroy their lives prematurely. They had things to accomplish, and I would not get in the way of any of them, even if it meant having to leave them.

As I watched, I saw Obi-Wan move slightly, first glancing to his side and then turning, reaching out a hand and giving his Master a light touch on the arm. In response, Qui-Gon's head bowed, and then Obi-Wan left him and stepped gingerly across the snow-field toward me. I looked up at him as he joined me, the distant firelight dancing on his youthful features. "How are you doing?" he wondered.

"Better," I said sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't handle it."

"It's all right," the Padawan assured, dropping his hood onto his shoulders and looking back. "You stayed far longer than I expected you would. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here." Obi-Wan looked back again, sighing lightly. "Your presence tonight was a comfort. Believe me."

I felt myself blushing at his gratitude. "Why did you leave?"

Obi-Wan looked down at me. "I came to see you home. Master Qui-Gon is going to stay a while longer, probably until the pyre burns down. He needs this time alone, also, so..." He extended a hand to help me off my cold perch. "Ready?"

"Sure." I accepted his hand and started away, taking one last look back at Qui-Gon. His hood had fallen off his head, giving me a glimpse of his drawn, pensive face lit by the glow of the fire. I silently wished him well, hoping he would be all right, before turning away and joining Obi-Wan for the long walk back.

Beyond the pyre's field the night was deep and dark, with no moon or stars to light the way back into Droste. Ahead of us I could see the lights of the city twinkling, but immediately around us it was hushed and black, and I found myself clutching at Obi-Wan's arm for guidance. His robe was warm from being so near to the fire, and I relished its feel even through the thin, borrowed mittens I wore. Not wishing to talk about the funeral, I brought up one of the other impending concerns. "Do you think Adi's okay?"

The Padawan continued a few steps in silence before answering. "I'm not sure. She has been gone a lot longer than I thought."

"Does Master Qui-Gon know where she is?"

"Exactly? No. But he did assure me today that he knows what her plans are, and he figured she wouldn't be back in time for the funeral." Obi-Wan glanced around the landscape, his face pensive. "We haven't heard anything about the battles along the border since yesterday. I don't know what's going on."

"Well, we're leaving tomorrow," I reminded him. "Whatever she's up to, she better get back here before then."

"Yes, before Colin takes us down to the city that has the spaceport. We'll be leaving Droste fairly early tomorrow."

"We'll have to tell Colin to tell Muira and the kids bye for us. We won't see them again."

Obi-Wan chuckled at that. "The children would probably want to stow away on our ship."

"You're probably right." I smiled sidelong at him, and the rest of our journey passed in silence. We headed down into Droste and through the streets lit with greasy, orange lamps, and I noticed a few sparse snowflakes drifting through the glare of the lights. Chagrined at the thought of yet more snow, I looked back along the route we had taken just in case Qui-Gon had decided to follow us. But there was no one behind us.

Obi-Wan ushered me into the house, where Colin greeted us with a worried look. "No sign of Master Adi?" he wondered of us.

"No," Obi-Wan replied. "You've heard nothing?"

"Not a thing. How did it go?"

The Padawan sighed wearily. "Just fine. Master Qui-Gon will be keeping vigil a while longer, he will be back soon."

Nodding, Colin wandered off to keep himself busy elsewhere. I understood how he felt, I had been that nervous while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were gone. Losing track of people on Salji for any length of time was not an easy thing to deal with. Accordingly, I found myself wandering toward the window in the kitchen and peering out at the empty street. Snow was starting to fall at a steady pace, it could be seen wherever the street lights cast a pool of radiance. No one was about, not at this time of night. Obi-Wan and I had seen no one, been passed by no one, on our way in from the outskirts. I stood by the window watching the snow fall for a while, captivated by its noiseless motion, until Obi-Wan came up behind me and touched me on the shoulder. I turned to him with a "Hmm?"

"See anything interesting?" he wondered with a smirk.

"It's snowing," I told him.

He looked out and smiled lightly. "So it is. Are you worried?"

"No," I said sheepishly. Then, after a pause, I added, "I want to go out there for a second."

"We just came inside." Obi-Wan frowned a little in curiosity. "Why do you want to go back out?"

"I just want to look at the snow. The only time I like it is when it falls like this," I said, quite honestly. "I promise I'll just be right outside, I'm not going to go wandering off alone. Bad things happen when I do."

Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to argue, but he held my gaze for a moment and then took a step back to let me go. "Very well. But I have your promise, no wandering off."

"Of course not." I started up the hallway without a coat, but at the last minute changed my mind and came back. Obi-Wan was following me to the door, and before I could grab the gray coat that had been loaned to me, he shrugged out of his robe and threw it over my shoulders, not even asking if I wanted it. Smiling shyly at him, I turned and went out the rear door, wrapping my arms tight around myself and looking up at the falling snow.

It was dark in the courtyard between the houses, as most of them had turned their outdoor lights off for the night, so I walked around the house to the street and looked up and down it. Nothing moved, there was no wind, only the large snowflakes drifting evenly down where the street lamps captured their passage. Then, contrary to what I had promised Obi-Wan, I started down the road in the direction of the outskirts, the snow fields, and Qui-Gon. I had an unexplainable feeling that if I started toward him, I would meet him, and hopefully sooner than later. Through pools of orange light and the deep, dark shadows beyond them I trudged, watching my boots shuffling through a light coating of fresh snow. I had gotten no more than a handful of blocks from the Goeben home when I looked up to see one lone figure walking down toward me, his arms folded in front of him and head bowed, as if he were also watching the toes of his boots carve a path through the new snow. I stopped, and waited until he drew closer and looked up. Even from a distance I could see Qui-Gon's face lighten with a smile as he recognized me, and his step become less terse as he continued towards me. "Hey," I greeted him when he came close enough.

"Did you come to guide me home?" he wondered with a lightness to his voice.

I wriggled in the robe and beamed. "No, I was...well. Maybe. Something like that." He came right up to me and stopped, smiling down. I looked away in embarrassment. "Did the militia finally come to...tend the pyre?"

"Yes. They arrived not long after you left, but I stayed a while longer. They'll take care of it now. I know you've been worried about me," Qui-Gon added in a kind murmur. "I've sensed it, and I'm grateful for your concern. But, I assure you, I am fine."

"Really?" I asked in a small voice.

His eyes were warm with a smile. "Yes, really."

We stood for a moment gazing at each other, illuminated by one yellowish street light overhead that revealed the falling snow in all its splendor. I could almost hear the faint whisper of the steady-falling flakes landing on the ground, on the dome-shaped roofs of the houses, on our shoulders. Looking up, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "Isn't it beautiful?"

I threw my arms out and slowly twirled in a circle. The robe's billowing sleeves cascaded away from my arms, sweeping great drafts of cold air up into them. White flakes settled on the brown fabric like stars against the sky. With my head tilted back, I could feel the snowflakes kissing my face and alighting on my eyelashes, making me blink. The slow spin brought me around to face the Master again, who stood quietly in the same spot, his hands tucked warmly inside his sleeves and a tiny smile on his lips. I grinned at him, trying not to repeat my question.

"Yes, it is," he finally answered in a voice soft and wistful. "There is always something beautiful, even magical, about falling snow." He lifted his eyes and watched the large, wet flakes drifting down, with his mouth slightly agape in wonder. Snowflakes caught in his beard and long hair, lingering on his large shoulders, gathering in the tucks of his hood and the folds of his sleeves. Neither of us seemed to be in a hurry to get inside, as Qui-Gon stood there gazing up at the clouded sky and I made another slow circle with my arms outspread, tempted to open my mouth and catch the flakes on my tongue. It truly was a magical snow, a snow straight out of childhood when it was appreciated and adored. I breathed in the chill air and grinned in delight, dropping my arms to my sides and gazing up at the flakes spotlit by the lights from the town. It felt like staring up into infinity, while infinity rushed directly down at you. A step crunched in the snow, and the next thing I knew, Qui-Gon was just behind me, drawing his hands from his sleeves to lay them on my shoulders. I felt my body tense a little. He spoke in that same soft voice. "Thank you so much, my friend. Your presence here reminds me that I must heed my own advice, and live in the moment. It has been hard the last few days to do that." He pulled me gently back against him and hugged me. "Thank you."

"I do what I can," I quietly said, feeling all snuggly and embarrassed inside. Qui-Gon rested his chin on the top of my head for a moment, and then pulled away, though his hands remained on my shoulders. I glanced over my shoulder at him, finding him smiling. "What?"

"I was just thinking," he assured. Suddenly, he yanked hard on my shoulders and I yelped as the nearest snowbank rushed up toward me. But he had me firmly from behind, and only dropped me halfway before catching me and setting me back upright on my feet, chuckling to himself.

"Qui-Gon!" I scolded as soon as I could breathe again. "What are you trying to do, throw me in the snow?"

"Of course," he said matter-of-factly, patting me on the shoulder and releasing me. "I was just testing your Jedi reflexes." I stepped away from him, wary of his next move, but he only smiled. "I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way. It just came to my mind."

"Living in the moment, huh?" I grinned back, brushing snowflakes off my sleeves. "Nah, I'm not hurt. Just startled! Sheesh. Heck of a way to test my reflexes."

Qui-Gon laughed openly at my reaction before starting away again, reaching out to guide me alongside him. "Come, let's head back. It's late."

"Yes, Master," I smiled back, stepping up to his side and keeping pace with him. All the way, I kept my eyes raised, to the velvet backdrop of night and the starry snowflakes tumbling down at an even pace, their passage completely soundless and eerie. I would not miss Salji at all, but I would miss this moment, and so kept my senses open and alive to remember it all.

On to Perspective: Thanksgiving by Trisha

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