"How late was it when you got in?" I asked, noticing his hesitation but avoiding it.

"The middle of the night."

I made a face at his back, though the sentiment was directed not at him but at the people who kept him so late. "What in the world were they doing so late?"

Qui-Gon turned back to me, heaving a short, annoyed sigh. "Daramin's government is nearing the stage in development where they will be able to receive representation in the Senate," he explained. "There is a sectorial representative in this region of the galaxy, so the Executor and his Board are beginning to put together the petitions to the Senate and requests for this sectorial representative to visit. The Daramindi are, understandably, excited about this chapter in their history, and want everything in order before it comes due." He gave me a smart look. "I'm beginning to think Obi-Wan and I didn't so much draw the lot for our turn on Daramin, as we were chosen because of my diplomatic skills."

"Lucky you," I teased. He winked as he turned again and left the room.

From the transmissions Qui-Gon had made to me, and from watching Obi-Wan study the night before, I gathered that the work the two Jedi were doing on Daramin consisted of first reading reports on various facets of the colonization efforts, and then following them up by investigating first-hand. They had been to two other nearby settlements in their first four weeks of the mission, but there were a lot of places yet to visit outside Takra. As they vanished to the day's tasks, Qui-Gon mentioned that we wouldn't be in the house there for more than a couple days, so I should enjoy it while I could. I didn't see much worth enjoying, at least with them gone. The place was fairly boring, though it did have a nice little balcony on the second floor which overlooked the square behind us, where I could sit and write in the interminable afternoon sunshine. I braved the sindi beetles I could hear whirring in the trees in order to enjoy the very temperate, Earth-like weather, propping bare feet up on a chair as I jotted down my first impressions of Daramin and excitedly related the story of my first night's unexpected delight. At the very end, I added a line that sparked across my imagination due to the sun and the perfumed breeze: if not for the fact Qui, Obi, and I are the only humans I've seen here, I could almost get homesick for Earth. It's so much like it.

Late in the day, I was stalking around the empty hallways of the house when the comlink in my pocket gave a terse buzz. I swiped it out and clicked the button to open a channel. "Yeah?"

"Good afternoon." Qui-Gon's unmistakable voice.

"Master," I greeted him, a smile growing on my face. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to let you know that everything is going according to schedule. Obi-Wan and I will be back in time for dinner - for once." He injected a hint of sarcasm into the last two words.

"Okay," I acknowledged. "Is there anything you want me to do? I'm just hanging around the house."

"If you'd like to start dinner, you may."

"Me?"

"Well, CQ isn't going to do it."

I laughed into the comlink. "All right. I'll...I'll see what I can do. Don't get your hopes up, though."

"All right. I'll check back later." And, characteristically, Qui-Gon closed the channel without so much as a polite farewell.

I was completely boggled. Granted, one thing I had learned to do in his absence was cook, sort of. I finally knew how to operate standard appliances, and I had learned a few simple recipes that weren't too drastically different from some I was used to. But, he didn't know that, as I'd kept it conveniently hidden rather than show off and have it come out all wrong, and leave Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan without dinner. How did he know that? I wondered. I'd been careful to give no hints about teaching myself this nuance of their culture, until I could be sure I was successful.

Wandering into the kitchen, I poked around the pantry looking for something familiar, and then opened just about every cabinet door to find out what was behind it. Utensils...pots...dishes...it looked to all be there. I had always been fairly amused that of all the differences between my home and this galaxy, the kitchen was practically the same. There were enough staples and supplies for me to create something palatable, so I dragged out a few items of kitchenware and started to form a plan. While I stood there, mentally gauging the size of a pot, I could hear CQ grinding up the corridor towards my position. He trundled into the room and paused, as if watching me, while I shot him a nervous look. I wasn't quite used to seeing a droid blundering in and out wherever he pleased, and I got the distinct impression he was staring whenever he showed up anywhere. I tried to ignore him, but I could hear the muffled whir of his gears working as he sized me up and investigated the area. It made my reconnaissance of the kitchen harder, because I didn't want to make any sudden moves even though I had nothing to fear from the security droid. I set the pot down on what I thought was the stove and frowned at it. "You don't know how to work anything in here, do you?" I offhandedly asked CQ.

CQ buzzed curtly and wheeled forward, shooting a little arm out of one socket. He poked a switch on the front of the appliance I stood in front of, and I heard the snap of a circuit coming on. The heating indicator lit up. "Oh," I muttered sheepishly. "Thanks, CQ."

The droid buzzed again and spun on a dime, zipping out of the room.

By the time I heard the main door hiss open and the stomp of boots entering, I had gotten water boiling for a rice-like grain I had been having some success with and was in the middle of stir-frying some fresh vegetables I discovered in the cooler unit. "Hello!" I yelled out to greet the Jedi, not entirely surprised to see CQ whiz past to ensure that only qualified individuals had entered. He whizzed back the other way a few seconds later, confirming what I already knew. My senses tingled with their proximity.

"What's going on in here?" Obi-Wan's voice had a note of genuine astonishment to it, which was also plainly written on his face as he came around the corner and saw what I was up to.

I grinned at him. "I'm juggling milk bottles, what does it look like?"

The astonishment turned to a subtle delight as he watched me for a moment. A spark lit his eyes and a dimple perked in his cheek. "When did you learn to do this?"

"I had a lot of time on my hands while you two have been away on missions," I reminded. "There's not a whole lot I can do yet, I'm still getting used to what's what and what tastes good if you put it together."

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head as he turned and disappeared from the doorway. I was still grinning to myself over his amazement when I felt another presence glide into the room. He couldn't sneak up on me this time, I was half expecting him and had my senses flung wide to catch him. I heard his solid footsteps, the swish of his clothing, and felt the draft of air brush my arm as his robe caught up to the rest of Qui-Gon. "I see you managed to get something going," he said casually, his voice right behind me.

I was still vigorously stirring the vegetables so they wouldn't burn. "I hope it turns out all right."

"It smells wonderful." He stepped a little closer and peered over my shoulder at my experiment.

I glanced out of the corner of my eye at him. "How did you know I'd learned to cook?"

His eyes crinkled with a smile. "The last few times Obi-Wan and I returned from a mission, there were more dishes left drying on the console than I remembered using."

"Ahh. Using your powers of observation," I teased.

Qui-Gon chuckled and lightly rubbed my shoulders with a hand. "I do have to keep them functioning flawlessly in case I need them."

The massaging touch continued across my shoulders and the back of my neck, and I gave a little hum of pleasure to indicate that it could go on like that as long as the Master wished. I hadn't had a good, therapeutic back rub in quite some time. He obliged, silently watching me ply my talent with dinner. The pressure eased to a gentle caress, and his hand slid lower along my spine, then around my waist, requiring him to take a step even closer. I almost dropped the spoon. Qui-Gon just stood behind me, seemingly oblivious to my moment of fumbling. "Did you have a good day?" he finally broke the silence.

"Oh," I shrugged, "it was okay. I just sat around, caught up on my journal." A strange feeling was prickling in my chest...why would I be this uncomfortable around Qui-Gon?

"CQ didn't get in your way, did he?"

"No, I hardly notice him."

"Good." He drew closer yet, his powerful body coming into contact with mine, as the hand slipped further around my waist and was joined by its counterpart. I was trapped in his arms.

I had to think of something to distract my wildly rioting thoughts. "How about you?" I managed to stammer, trying very hard not to sound as awkward as I felt. "How was your day? You and Obi."

"It was rather uneventful," Qui-Gon replied plainly. "We are finishing the first stage of the mission, which has bound us mostly to Takra so far." His commentary trailed off there, while his hands continued to absently stroke downward along my waist and hips, almost pulling me into him. I could feel the contours of his body where it pressed against mine, and the glide of his soft touch as it found my abdomen and seemed content to remain there. My heart was hammering against the walls of my chest, and I was mentally repeating words of calm and control to myself in order not to let a hint of what I was feeling escape so he could notice it. Ordinarily I wouldn't have been so concerned, but the sudden rush of anxiety and nervousness was unsettling; I couldn't see a reason for feeling it when Qui-Gon was simply standing behind me, doing something I no doubt dreamed that he would do for many long months.

I was so wrapped up in controlling my emotions, I didn't notice the pot in the back boiling over. With a yelp I grabbed the handle and lifted it off the heating element, barely rescuing the contents. "Whoops! I guess I don't quite have the hang of this yet after all."

Qui-Gon withdrew, taking his obtrusive hands with him. "I'll get out of your way, then," he said in good humor. "Let us know when it's ready."

"Okay," I called over my shoulder as I wrestled with the controls and got it turned down to safely steam the grains instead of scorching them. Wiping my hands on my pants, I stepped back and took a deep breath. What in the world had gotten into me? Hadn't I been longing for a greater closeness with Qui-Gon, something besides the usual platonic guiding hand on my shoulder? I couldn't understand my own reactions, but I didn't downplay them. For as long as I lived I had always taken instinctual reactions at face value, assuming there was some good reason for them even if I couldn't see it before my eyes at the moment. Taking a deep breath, I shook myself free of the lingering nervousness and closeted the feeling away. I would think about it later, when thinking no longer brought the feelings back up in full force. At least this time I had the benefit of Jedi-taught control to keep Master Qui-Gon from knowing what was going on inside my head.

Over dinner (which turned out just fine), Qui-Gon informed me that we would be leaving Takra for another settlement in less than twenty-four hours. "A local shuttle will take us there tomorrow afternoon," he clarified as I looked over at him with wide eyes. He smirked slightly. "I told you not to get too comfortable."

"Oh, I didn't. I'm just surprised at how quickly it came - you only just said this morning it would be within a couple days."

"We managed to complete our tasks here earlier than I expected," the Master explained.

"So where're we going?"

"The equatorial tropics," Obi-Wan answered for his Master between bites.

Qui-Gon finished drinking before elaborating on the answer. "We will be spending a little over a week among the Be'a'lai. They are the only race among the Daramindi who keep to themselves exclusively within one region of the planet."

"That being the tropics? That's right, you said something about that just after I landed," I remembered. "I seem to remember the words 'unbearable' and 'weather' in there somewhere."

"Yes, it's quite warm. I'm glad to hear you've been paying attention," Qui-Gon said pleasantly. "There are a few things Obi-Wan and I must take care of in the morning, but make sure you're packed and ready to leave in the afternoon. I'm not sure exactly where we will head after that, so leave nothing behind. Take it all with you."

I nodded my understanding and went back to chasing vegetables around my plate. Hardly anything of mine had gotten unpacked since landing, so being ready to ship out again wasn't going to be hard. For the rest of the night I sat back and listened to the Jedi relate to me a few important things to know before going into Be'a'lai territory, like how to properly pronounce things - full stops at what read to me on paper as punctuation - and how it would insult these people if I said something wrong. I also grasped that I should expect most of the villagers to be wearing very little clothing. The Be'a'lai had come from a very warm planet and settled in the tropical region of Daramin out of its similarity to their homeworld, retaining most of their culture and habits. They never left their equatorial settlements, with the exception of the officials they sent to Takra to represent them among the Daramindi government. Placid, friendly, and somewhat ethnocentric, they kept large landholdings filled with gardens and farms, and from them came most of the planet's major agriculture. Qui-Gon mentioned that we would be transported directly to a large settlement called Ba'nom, and from there, would probably spread out and cover any nearby villages over the following days. He didn't know what the accommodations there were like, but he knew they were private, just like the house in Takra.

Once everyone had gone their separate ways for bed, I closed myself inside my room and flopped down on the bed, not tired enough to sleep yet and bothered by resurfacing memories from the day. Falling asleep at Obi-Wan's side was one I would never forget, having already put as detailed account as possible in my journal. Contrasted with it was the painful question of my own behavior later in the day, around Master Qui-Gon. I hadn't flinched like that at his touch since my first days in this galaxy, when he was still an unattainable hero to me and I could only hope to look upon him from afar. Certainly, we had been closer since, not only body to body but mind to mind. Why, then, should a little gesture of affection freak me out? There was no logic behind it, and yet the feeling had been there, a sort of fearful doubt that it was really happening - or should happen. I stared at the ceiling for a while, letting my thoughts wind around and around in circles without reaching a conclusion. It occurred to me that I could calm myself down with a little meditation, but I nearly rejected the idea outright until I remembered that I was no longer half a galaxy away from the Master. He was just across the hall. It would probably work just fine, now.

Pushing myself up off the bed, I reached over and flicked off the light, and then knelt down in the middle of the bare floor of the bedroom. Light from outside danced in small, hyperactive spots on the ceiling as it filtered through the tossing leaves of the tree right by the window. It was peaceful enough for me, as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The Force seemed to have been waiting for me, for it pounced on me moments after I turned my mind to it. The effervescent power grew and built until it rose up and crashed over me like a wave, burying me deep inside itself as I in turn tried to channel it deep within myself. Very shortly after, I had given myself up and completely forgotten what I had been fretting about, it was so good to feel the Force so strong again. Sadly, it was true: the farther away from Qui-Gon I was, the harder it was to grasp the Force. I had gotten used to the tiny, fleeting sparks of it that I had been using in my defense lessons and other times, such that its potency now completely overwhelmed me. The longer I spent in concentration, kneeling on the floor with my eyes shut, wrestling the Force like it was a large dog that didn't want to go in the bathtub, the more knowledge came back to me. I gave up wrestling, then I gave up thinking, and all the things Master Qui-Gon had taught me months ago came flooding back to mind instinctively. Finally, I could rest in the power of the Force, and gently seek illumination within it if I dared. When I at last opened my eyes, feeling much more calm and centered though without answers to my questions, some hours had passed. Shaking my head to scold myself, I quickly threw on sleep clothes and tumbled into bed.

*****

The enclosed, low-orbit shuttle took just a couple of hours to wing us from lovely Takra south to the equator, and around to the region of the Be'a'lai, though when we landed it would be about an hour before we had even left! Blasted time zones, I thought as I watched the atmospheric haze clear and a mass of green rush up toward the craft. I hadn't gotten much sleep, although I was allowed to stay in bed while the Jedi went about their last-minute business in Takra, and was trying not to be surly as I realized I had even more time to myself now that we had gone three time zones eastward on Daramin. That was definitely going to take some getting used to, since we would be zipping back and forth across continents for the next eight weeks, completely messing with my internal clock... which was just ducky with Coruscant's 24-hour rhythm, thank you very much. I didn't share my mental ramblings with the Jedi, however. They had enough on their minds already.

Below us, the forest opened up and clusters of thatched-roof houses blossomed in the middle of the trees, surrounded by multi-colored patches of plowed farmland stitched together with leafy windbreaks. I stared down at these random splashes of civilization as we soared over them, and saw ahead of us a much larger break in the forest. Ba'nom, the chief city of the Be'a'lai, their "capital" so to speak even though Takra was the only acknowledged capital on Daramin, sprawled over several hillsides and valleys, looking nothing like a colony settlement. The pod-like shuttle skimmed toward an open field and put down smoothly. The pilot spoke over his shoulder to let Qui-Gon know the local time and temperature readings; Master Qui-Gon nodded his thanks and just watched the approach, his keen gray eyes seemingly not interested in any one thing. I knew better - he was aware of everything, down to the number of trees lining the landing field on the far side. The pilot had nothing else to do in Ba'nom, so as soon as the three of us had disembarked, the shuttle took off again for a return trip to Takra.

My first impression was formed by the searing wave of humidity that assaulted my skin and lungs as I took a breath. I could have sworn I began sweating immediately in my long-sleeved tunic. Qui-Gon looked around briefly, though there was really only one direction we could have gone. With barely a glance to make sure Obi-Wan and I were following, the Master strode briskly for a squat thatched hut on the edge of the landing field, alongside which were parked a couple of battered landspeeders. As we approached, a short figure bounced out of the hut, and I nearly mistook him for a child. Qui-Gon came to an elegant stop and formed his right hand into a fist, tapping it to his chest just below his heart. The short, dark person did the same thing, and then said, in a bright voice, "Welcome to Ba'nom. You would be the new team of Jedi."

"Could you tell us how to get to our quarters?" Qui-Gon said with a nod.

"Better. I have someone who can show you." The Be'a'lai man pursed his lips and whistled sharply, and another of his kind trotted around from behind the hut. The first looked up to Qui-Gon. "Speeder?"

"No, thank you, we will walk if it's not far."

"No, not far. Right, then." The first Be'a'lai turned to the second and yammered an order in their native language. They were both short, perhaps no more than four feet tall, and lithe of limb. Nearly hairless, with naturally dark skin that had a strange bluish caste to it, the men wore only short skirts of hide decorated with feathers. The three of us looked positively overdressed next to them - and felt it, I was sure. Glancing at Obi-Wan, I noticed a light sheen of sweat on his neck.

The second man bowed to us when he had received his orders and gestured for us to follow him. Qui-Gon started off immediately, and I had to scramble to keep up with him. Though his legs were twice as long as the Be'a'lai's, the native had a fast, fluid gait that lent itself well to being followed by tall Jedi. Short humans like me, however, were out of luck. None of us said anything as we followed our escort into Ba'nom, though there was plenty to observe along the way. We were winding gradually through the southern neighborhoods of the city toward one of the hills, but none of the streets were straight by any stretch of the imagination, so it took a while to get anywhere. All around us dashed the short, quick figures of the Be'a'lai, from warriors bearing both bladed weapons and blasters down to little children playing naked on the porches of their houses. I tried not to stare, as it was a part of their culture by choice - and a really good idea on a hot day like today. What was Master saying about me learning a lot here? He's not kidding...

Our escort paused at one of the log-and-brick cabins that lined the curving street and bowed with a flourish. Qui-Gon gazed searchingly at it before giving the guide a satisfied nod and a thank you. The young male grinned and dashed off, presumably back to the landing field where he worked. The Master stepped up onto the porch which ran the length of the building's front, slowly and cautiously testing the door. It wasn't electronic, so he pulled the latch and found it unlocked. Glancing over his shoulder at Obi-Wan, he placed his free hand on his lightsaber. The apprentice did the same, momentarily shifting his eyes up and down the length of the street. I took the hint and stepped slightly behind Obi-Wan to shield me from anything that might come out the doorway.

Qui-Gon went first, ready to draw his weapon if needed. We could hear his boots thunking on a wood floor inside. They paused, and there was a long, searching silence. I looked up at the Padawan, but he had his attention fully on the open door, his right hand still hovering over his lightsaber. Then, we heard Qui-Gon's gruff voice. "It's all right. There was security on the door after all - I disarmed it. You can come in."

I breathed a sigh of relief and trotted up the stairs to the porch, breezing into a halo of cooler, drier air. The Jedi residence was air conditioned! I couldn't help but exclaim, "Ohh...this feels nice."

Master Qui-Gon stood beside a bank of equipment situated right in the main room - communicator and data bank, apparently - shuffling through a handful of folded papers. He barely lifted an eyebrow at me. "You didn't notice that this was the only house in view with a cooling unit on the roof?"

"I don't notice these things," I scolded him with a grin. "Where I come from, in a climate like this everybody's got air...cooling unit...things."

"What is that?" Obi-Wan wondered, speaking my next question before I had a chance.

Qui-Gon still didn't glance up as he shuffled through the papers again. "One is a note of welcome from the chieftain of Ba'nom, another is a request for our presence at a feast to be held this very night, and these seem to be letters from various officials in the city seeking audience with the Jedi guardians." At last he lifted his head, wearing neither smile nor frown. "At least that answers the one question I had: whether we would find out upon arriving what work needed to be done, here."

I turned toward the rest of the house, intending to explore. Behind my back, I heard Obi-Wan ask in complete bewilderment, "They use paper to transmit messages?"

"Well, we were told the Be'a'lai tend not to use modern conveniences except where absolutely necessary," I heard Qui-Gon answer him simply. "It would seem that applies to communication as well. They have provided for our needs quite well, however."

The Jedi voices were growing fainter as I meandered away from them down the hallway, turning a corner and finding the refresher. I had passed up one brilliantly-daylit room, assuming it led to a back door, but as I kept going I found another "back door," and peered through it in curiosity. My shout carried all the way back to the main room. "Hey, there's a courtyard!"

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan joined me outside via the first back door. The house was built square with a courtyard in the center, which had another porch that went all the way around it and entrances in all four sides. The hot sun poured down into the yard, making Qui-Gon squint as he walked out and gave it a once-over with his eyes. "It's very nice," he noted, "but hardly secure."

"Is this another habit of the Be'a'lai?" Obi-Wan dryly suggested.

"I wouldn't know," his Master answered. "Most likely." He gave his Padawan a cleverly hidden smile as Obi-Wan pushed past him into the middle of the yard. "Perhaps you can ask them at the feast tonight."

"So we are going to the feast," Obi-Wan noted.

"I don't see why not."

"Cool," I interjected, just so they wouldn't forget I was there. The inner porch was supported by posts every few feet, which were perfect for leaning on - so I did. "You already have work to do, though."

Qui-Gon looked at me, calm and collected. "No," he answered, "I think I will leave it. I will contact the chieftain to thank him for the welcome, but we won't be visiting anyone today. There are some reports we need to familiarize ourselves with, first."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan acknowledged as he completed his inspection of the courtyard and came back to where Qui-Gon stood. Two pairs of eyes flicked in my direction at the same time.

"I'm going to go find a place to put my stuff," I decided instantly. The bag hanging off my shoulder was heavy, anyway.

The bedrooms comprised the rest of the wing I was in and the next, again providing visiting Jedi with more than enough space for any size team. I picked a room that was screened from the sun and prying eyes by a large flowering shrub and tossed my bag on the bed, which was no more than a plain sleep couch like those found on ships. The rooms were small, simple, and austere, as Jedi quarters were expected to be. The windows were sealed and cool air was being ventilated into the room, which made me finally notice what Qui-Gon had pointed out moments before. As we walked through the city, I had noticed that every house had its large, screened-in windows flung open wide, and doors too. The Be'a'lai somehow survived the tropical heat - willingly! - without benefit of artificial cooling. Not I, my inner voice complained. Give me the air conditioning, please!

There wasn't much left to the afternoon by the time all three of us were settled in the main room, the Jedi going over current reports left by the last team and myself immersed in my journal. I found a nice, wide chair that seemed to be made of a reed like wicker and lazed in it, staying out of the way, while the two of them sat facing each other over a small table that was piled with leaves of paper and a datapad or two. Their robes were already off, and Obi-Wan had his undertunic sleeves rolled up as he poured through one report after the next. Every once in a while, the contemplative silence would be broken by a comment from either of them along the lines of, "Have you seen the population growth chart?" and "What did you do with that report on crop exports?"

After a particularly long and peaceful pause, I overheard Qui-Gon wonder, "Have you seen the water quality report from Dindee?"

"Here it is." Obi-Wan passed a ream of paper to his Master, never taking his eyes off the one in his lap. "And please tell me it's the last one, Master. I don't know if I can take much more of this."

"It is, for now," Qui-Gon assured, immediately settling in to read.

"About this feast, Master," Obi-Wan went on off-handedly. I glanced up to see what he was talking about. "What exactly is it for? I hope it's not solely for our sake."

"No, it isn't. We're only invited guests. Actually." Qui-Gon looked up, and both Obi-Wan and I met his gaze. He was smirking. "It is to celebrate the birthday of their chieftain."

"Today is his birthday?" Obi-Wan repeated, trying to hold back a laugh.

That reminded me of something. I sat up sharply and began paging back through my notes. "Wait, hang on," I said, making the Jedi look toward me questioningly. "I did some calculating. Let me find it...here." I opened to a page of numbers and calendar grid, and quickly scanned my notations. "How many days has it been since you contacted me?"

Qui-Gon thought for a moment. "Seven, I think. It depends on how long your trip was."

I mulled that over, made a few more corrections, "...factor in the two extra days that are in the galactic standard year..." The conclusion made me squeal out loud and then burst out laughing. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan sat quietly watching and waiting for me to explain my sudden hysterics. I collected myself and beamed idiotically at them. "Today's my birthday too."

Their eyes widened. "What do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I went by what day it was when I arrived in this galaxy, and compared the calendar to my own," I explained, still grinning, "when I had some free time. If time were to pass the same there as here, today would correspond with the day on my calendar that is...my birthday." I shrugged and added, "Well, I'm within a day or two either way. Close enough."

The Master asked, "Are you sure?" I nodded at him. He looked slightly stunned, and gave a short chuckle. "Well. If I hadn't already made up my mind to attend the feast, that would have settled it. Would you have a problem celebrating your birthday among a strange people, with only Obi-Wan and I as company?"

"Not at all! Heck," I mused, "it would be better than a lot of the birthdays I've had recently. Last year's was particularly depressing."

"I'm sure this one won't be," Qui-Gon smiled.

"How old would that make you?" Obi-Wan queried.

I sat up and grinned proudly. "I'm twenty-five."

"That makes you a little more than two years older than me. And quite a bit younger than Master Qui-Gon," the Padawan teased with an impish look at his Master.

Qui-Gon's eyes were firmly back on his water quality report, but I had no doubt he saw that look. "Finish what you are working on so we can get ready for the feast. The chieftain will be expecting us."

"Yes, Master," came the respectful reply, colored with the smile that wouldn't leave Obi-Wan's face.

*****

It was a strange birthday party, as parties go. Hundreds of Be'a'lai swarmed to the feast in honor of their chieftain and spent several hours inside an open-sided pavilion eating, drinking, and being generally very loud. However, every one of them was a stranger to me. Only the two Jedi who stayed to either side of me knew of the special occasion, and we decided to keep it that way, not knowing much about Be'a'lai social customs and not wanting to usurp the chieftain's honor. I was expecting a strapping, boisterous man to bear the title, but he was actually a smallish, elderly Be'a'lai male, thinner than his citizens and relatively quiet. He was nothing short of tickled to have the Jedi at his feast, and made us sit with him at the head table even though he spoke very little with Qui-Gon all night. The Jedi pair stood out among the guests, towering over everyone, but their quiet manners caused them to quickly be forgotten in the midst of the revelry that spun on unchecked. Several sumptuous courses had me stuffed, and for at least an hour following, everyone sat around drinking at their tables, talking and laughing and letting the feast dinner settle.

It was still warm and rather muggy, though a slight breeze came in through the arched openings of the pavilion. I couldn't feel it, but I could see it stir the draperies and hangings every once in a while. At the Master's advice, I had changed into something more appropriate for the weather, a sleeveless shirt and very lightweight flaxen pants, but I was still warm. Since most of the Be'a'lai on the streets and inside the feasting hall were barefoot, I took a daring chance and did so as well. To my utter surprise, the Jedi came out in something different from their tunics and robes, for once. Oh, the robes were still there, but beneath them they wore sleeveless tunics that hung down as long as their normal tunics, without the tabards that draped over their shoulders. Instead, a long sash was knotted around their waists and the loose ends dangled down in front below their utility belts. I spent a lot of time staring that night, both astonished that there existed something so different in Jedi wardrobes, and delighted at how Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan looked in them. Seated at the head table, twiddling my bare toes around the wooden rungs of my chair, I listened to the talk going on around me while gazing admiringly at my companions. The cool tunics showed off their muscular arms nicely.

Across from us was the most entertaining dinner company I had ever met. He was an official of some sort, a nobleman of some standing among the Be'a'lai who had come from another settlement to honor the chieftain. He had an infectious laugh and sharp wit, and told stories such that those of us not acquainted with local customs could still understand and enjoy them. Now and again my eyes would slip from his attention to the crowded floor below, where finally after the feast and the drinking, the tables were being cleared for dancing. I was too full to move, though, so I was content with expecting to watch the festivities. My eyes trailed back toward Obi-Wan, on my left, who was slumped back in his chair with his bared arm stretched out along the table between us. Noticing my gaze, his eyes flicked in my direction and a subtle smile crossed his lips. That made me all bashful, so I averted my glance to Qui-Gon instead. He was leaned on the table, a cup in one hand that he had hardly drunk from in the past hour, while he listened to our table-guest spin another yarn. "But you see, it's so untrue," the nobleman was chuckling. "What about you? Ever had anything like that happen to you on your journeys?"

"Fortunately, my work very seldom carries me into cantinas," Qui-Gon tactfully replied. "I can't say that it's ever happened to me."

"Yes, I suppose," the nobleman sighed, "the Jedi are much more careful about where they step, and in whose path they are when they do. How goes your time on Daramin?"

"Very well, thank you."

The Be'a'lai man's eyes glittered. "I don't suppose you've seen anything like this before?" He lifted his cup to indicate the feast going on around us, and the dancers already taking the floor to the enthusiastic applause of the guests.

"I have," Master Qui-Gon nodded, his face neither impressed nor derisive. No one could tell what he thought of the spectacle. "Our line of work includes many a festival or dinner party. It is one of the hazards of working with leaders of all kinds."

"Hazards indeed!" The nobleman descended into a roaring bout of laughter. I couldn't help but smirk, and glanced to see Qui-Gon enjoying a smile as well. When he finally caught his breath, our companion added, "Ah, but it's not the leaders you have to worry about, is it? Trouble can sneak up on your from any side."

At the moment I was engrossed in watching the traditional Be'a'lai dance that was currently opening the festivities, completely impressed at the stamina and speed of the dancers' feet. A comparison finally hit me, the Be'a'lai reminded me of sprites or pixies with their boundless energy, small, slender builds, and glimmering dark eyes. A whisper of the Force passed between Master and apprentice, brushing me in the process and making me turn my head towards Qui-Gon. Something about what the man said - or perhaps something behind his words - had the Master on alert. But all he said aloud was, "Yes, I suppose it can."

"Even where you least expect it." The nobleman shook his head in mock pity while a serving girl leaned over and refilled his cup. "It would positively ruin a good time, I dare say."

"I would be sorry to see this occasion interrupted in such a way," Qui-Gon acknowledged.

"Oh, I think this feast will go on all night without trouble." The Be'a'lai burst out with another laugh. "Except for the kind we make ourselves, what with all the drink! No, you should worry for nothing here. Nothing here." He leaned an elbow on the table and tilted his cup my way, sloshing the contents around dangerously. "Wouldn't want to frighten your quiet friend! How passes your night, my dear?"

"Not a dancer, eh?" the nobleman giggled.

A velvet voice interrupted, "Quite the contrary."

I shot Obi-Wan a withering look at his comment, because now our table companion was sitting up in interest. The Padawan retained a composed, moderate look as he added, "However, we're not here to make a spectacle of ourselves in the chieftain's presence. It's his birthday, after all." Ice-blue eyes met mine, and a dimple perked into his cheek.

I wanted so badly to declare, "It's my birthday too!" but we had agreed not to let that slip. It was a private matter. Instead, I just smiled serenely at the nobleman. "Don't listen to Obi-Wan. He doesn't know anything about my dancing habits."

Obi-Wan was comically offended at that. He sat up with a gasp. "I should think I do, after the haridi on Chad."

"You so do not!" I laughed at him. "I haven't even begun to show you the sort of dancing I like to do - because you don't have the right music."

I heard Qui-Gon clear his throat and engage the nobleman in another conversation, but Obi-Wan and I were hopelessly diverted now. "What do you mean, the right music?" the Padawan wondered curiously, his brows still knit together in a pretense of injury to his ego.

"I do like to dance, you have that right," I told him, "but not once in the months I've been here have I heard anything like the techno music I dance to. It's not..." I waved a hand in a vague gesture. "...partner dancing, or ballroom or anything like that. It's by yourself in the middle of a big crowd, letting go and just falling into the music." I fixed him with the most tempting look I could give. "Very fast. Very intense."

Obi-Wan had forgotten about arguing with me, he was sitting turned towards me with an elbow on the table and his cheek resting in his hand. "Pity that we don't have your kind of music. It sounds very interesting."

"Pity's right. I think you'd like it a lot." I looked out at the open floor of the pavilion, which was now packed with Be'a'lai bouncing to the incredibly fast, percussion-oriented music provided by a band bearing rather rustic-looking instruments. Everyone was swirling amongst each other in patterns, leaping from partner to partner faster than you could say "square dance." "This is very weird," I sighed.

"What is?" the Jedi apprentice pressed.

I sat back in my chair and folded my hands in my lap. "Of all the things that came to mind when someone would ask me, 'where do you see yourself at twenty-five?' this is certainly...certainly not even close to anything I ever imagined."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a minute. "A quarter of a century," he said at last. "For most, a quarter of your life."

"I should be so lucky. Humans on Earth don't get much past 70 or 80 mostly."

Soulful eyes met mine once again. "Would you rather be celebrating this birthday on Earth?"

I looked away from him, out to the dance floor again, and smiled. "Nah. I'm in a much better place overall. I like where I am." I nodded in satisfaction. "Biggest birthday party I've ever had. Too bad I don't know anyone here, and none of them know it's my birthday."

"Well," Obi-Wan said innocently, "Master Qui-Gon and I will make sure to celebrate it with you in a manner you're more accustomed to. I'll bet he doesn't even make you do what we do on our birthdays."

"What? Meditate?"

Obi-Wan nodded with a cute grin.

Meditation was definitely not on the schedule for this night, birthday-oriented or not. Qui-Gon spent a brief time talking to the chieftain, not about business but just about settling in and what his plans were. I heard him say something about being in Ba'nom a day or two but also going to Dindee, and the chieftain agreed that it was a good plan and Dindee was a lovely place to visit. The Master was clearly trying to excuse himself and all of us so we could get out of there, but he lingered in order to trade just the right amount of kind words with the man of the hour. I stood behind him, my back to him as though letting him guard me while I looked around. Obi-Wan had been cornered by another official and was currently a few feet away, nodding and smiling wanly in an attempt to placate the speaker enough so he could get away.

"Actually," Qui-Gon suddenly said, raising his voice and startling me out of my reverie, "it is ironic that we should be here on this day. It's her birthday, also."

I looked up at him as he turned toward me and gathered me into the conversation. I smiled nervously at the chieftain, who looked delighted to hear this news. "Fortune smiles!" he exclaimed, clapping his little wizened hands together a few times. "You should have told me, I could have had our male dancers perform a special dance in your honor."

The way he said it, with the punctuating wink, made me blush furiously. "Thank you, but it was enough of a pleasure watching your traditional dances. I don't think I'll ever forget this."

The chieftain nodded smilingly, and after a few more words to Qui-Gon drifted off in some other direction. Free at last, Qui-Gon turned and gestured at Obi-Wan. Ever the obedient apprentice, Obi-Wan excused himself immediately and joined us as we started for the entrance. "Thank you, Master, I was beginning to think I would be there all night. He kept alternating between saying, 'this is not a night to discuss business' and asking me what I thought should be done about representation on the Common Council."

Qui-Gon sighed. "Yes, I noticed several of the Be'a'lai had that problem," he murmured as we left the thick crowds behind and emerged on the cool night. Daramin's twin moons gleamed above us, lighting our way through the streets. Once we were alone, the Master continued. "There was also an undertone to their words. A tension that betrayed their interest in us."

"I felt it also, Master." Obi-Wan sighed through his nose. "And the nobleman at our table. He all but came out and warned us that we should expect trouble."

"I will make sure security measures are in place wherever we go," Qui-Gon declared in a low voice. "And you," he added, glancing briefly at me, "should not go anywhere without one of us with you."

"I know. I won't," I promised.

"Let's all of us keep our eyes open. We've been here four weeks and there has been no sign of trouble. I would like to keep it that way the rest of the mission."

Obi-Wan breathed another "Yes, Master" under his breath, and the rest of the walk home commenced in silence. I hoped inwardly that Qui-Gon didn't think up some brilliant means of marking my milestone birthday before I went to bed, because I was dead tired and still full and just wanted to lie down in my air-conditioned room and sleep away all worries. Fortunately, that is exactly what I did.

On to part 41

Back to index