"Fine, Master," his Padawan replied. "The creature never came back. Nothing else came near us all night."

"Good." Qui-Gon continued up behind the rocks that sheltered Jek and I from the wicked suns and crouched down, first to check on the crewman, and then me, his eyes full of concern. "How are you feeling?"

"Bleah." I pouted at him. "Not only do I still hurt, I didn't get much sleep. Couldn't roll over with this." I picked up my left hand and gingerly waved my arm.

"Don't worry. It's time to get you out of here," he said reassuringly. "It will be just a moment." He rose and gestured for Obi-Wan to follow him, down to the vehicles parked in a little knot, their repulsorlifts keeping them hovering oddly just above the ground. Three of Demilla's crew had returned with him, and were now talking with the copilot to catch up on what had happened during the night. I couldn't hear what they talked about, but figured the only thing I needed to know was that they were going to come back up to me, take me down to the landspeeder, and drive me out of this hell.

Obi-Wan and one of the Bothan crewmen teamed up to carry Jek down from the rocks, since he had a broken leg and other possible injuries that had not been stabilized to the Jedi's satisfaction. Qui-Gon's robe felt hot and smelled of dust as his arms came around me and lifted me to my feet, where I wavered dizzily for a moment. I could walk, but slowly, with aches still in my legs and back. The Master tenderly held me, surrounding me, taking patient steps with me down to the landspeeder. The others had settled Jek lying down in the wide back seat of the speeder, and he seemed in better spirits already as he talked with his crewmates and sipped at the fresh water they had brought with them. Obi-Wan went back up for my baggage while Jek pestered Qui-Gon. "Master Jedi, what are your plans?"

Qui-Gon helped me to lean up against one of the cargo crates for a second, to rest. "I will pilot the speeder back to Anchorhead, with the injured, Obi-Wan will take one of the speeder bikes, the rest of the crew is staying here to salvage the Darkstar. Captain Demilla is with his contacts and will wait for us to meet him."

"Looks like this is the end of our road," one of the Bothans spoke up. "Assuming you can get off this rock, that is. Safe journey, Jedi." He leaned over Jek. "And you, when you're up there sitting in your soft bed with people waiting on you hand and foot, think kindly of your mates down here stuck with the hard work."

Jek laughed at that, but weakly. None of them were remotely jealous of his state in reality. Obi-Wan returned with my bag and possessions, which he stowed in the speeder while the Bothans were still laughing. I watched him step aside with his Master, and heard him murmur, "Did you find anything that might be the source of the disturbance?"

"Not in the settlement, no," Qui-Gon replied, his eyes darting around briefly. "We're not in very close proximity to it, whatever it was. It may be halfway across the planet, faint as it was."

"Do you think we should look for it?"

My heart tensed in my chest. No, they can't! I quickly shuffled my way between them to break up the discussion. "Is it very far?"

Qui-Gon immediately reached out and encircled me in protective arms, steadying me so I wouldn't waver and collapse. "No, not far," he assured, "not with the landspeeder we managed to get. We haven't much time, let's get you settled in for the ride."

I let him pick me up and ease me into the front seat, secretly glad that I had interrupted talk of disturbances. They can sense him. Crap, I have to make sure they don't go looking for him. Sighing, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the speeder jostle when Master Qui-Gon dropped himself into the pilot's seat. I glanced around, waving a feeble farewell to the crew of the Darkstar being left out here with only a damaged ship for company. Obi-Wan hopped astride one of the speeder bikes and fired it up, and in seconds we left the canyon far behind.

As our vehicles droned across the featureless sand-plains of Tatooine and the outlying huts of Anchorhead came into view, I sat up and observed our approach with eager interest. A few small, black shapes hung in the hazy blue above the city, either taking off from or landing in the spaceport facilities. Far out beyond the fringe of the settlement, I thought I saw a Jawa sandcrawler inching through the dunes. Anchorhead was huge - the closer we came, the wider and wider it spread out until the square buildings topped with domes filled my vision from one horizon to the other. Qui-Gon eased back on the throttle to slow the landspeeder down as we passed a few moisture vaporators stabbing their needles into the sky, bringing us down to a reasonable cruising speed for the crowded, dusty streets. Obi-Wan drove the speeder bike right up alongside us and remained there the rest of the way through the city, weaving skillfully among passersby, other speeders, and the occasional spindly droid-driven transport that looked to me like a rickshaw. Anchorhead seemed to have far more interesting modes of transportation than what I saw in the movie glimpses of Mos Espa. Countless species wandered by on all sides of us, familiar and unfamiliar. Jawas. Nikto. Grans. A "Hammerhead." Suited and helmeted spacemen whose identity could not be discerned. The air was filled with the sound of a thousand languages. After a while I just sank back into the seat with an odd grin, taking it all in. I'm on Tatooine. Okay, I admit it, now this is pretty cool.

Qui-Gon deftly guided the speeder through winding, pedestrian-choked streets, past dewbacks and junk shops and all sorts of other things I knew, to the spaceport at the city's far side. I looked up and could see everything from bulk cruisers to fighter-sized Headhunters lifting off and setting down, buzzing in the skies like lazy bumblebees on a steamy August afternoon. The superheated air pressed on my lungs, making every breath a labor, and I swore I could feel the skin on my face and arms burning already. We stopped outside a long, low building, its entrances shielded by awnings of hide, and the Master directed his apprentice to wait there and stand guard for a moment while he went inside. In moments he returned with Captain Demilla, who looked a bit more disheveled but otherwise as cool and haughty as ever. He hopped up on the back of the landspeeder and pointed to the road ahead of us. "Just a bit up that way, there's a place where you can pull in so we can unload everybody."

The Jedi returned to the controls of their respective vehicles, and we traveled forward a few blocks as a pack until Demilla waved for Qui-Gon to turn left into a bay sheltered from the sun by more awnings. The Master shut everything down and then turned to the captain without even leaving the speeder. "Well? What do you have for us?"

Demilla smiled smugly. "I called in a favor from an...old friend. There's a light freighter bound for Lahopa, leaving dock this afternoon with no passengers yet. The captain's agreed to take the four of you with her as far as the station, but from there you'll have to secure passage to Coruscant." He nodded toward his crewman, who struggled to sit up and listen. "Leave Jek at the medical facilities there, I'll pick him up in a couple days when I have everything here wrapped up."

"Very well." Qui-Gon climbed out and came around the speeder, joining Obi-Wan to get me out first, then leaving me on the Padawan's arm while he and Captain Demilla saw to Jek. We made a strange party limping into the spaceport, maneuvering at a snail's pace through maze-like corridors, my bag bumping against Obi-Wan's far shoulder. Creatures of all kinds parted somewhat less than courteously to let us through, muttering in weird tongues as they went. It was actually a relatively short distance from the side entrance we took to the docking bay where our transport waited, but it took forever to get there at our speed.

A woman clad in a flatteringly-cut flight suit came down out of the freighter when we blundered through the entrance of the docking bay, tucking a datapad into her belt. "Well, well," she said by way of greeting as she strode near. "Isn't this an interesting bunch of stragglers you've saddled me with, Yon?"

"Marina," Captain Demilla cautioned. "This is Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and his apprentice and their friend."

Marina was a middle-aged but still nice-looking woman, of the type Star Wars authors loved to write about: shaped like a model, smiling like a pirate, blaster at her side but hair perfect. "Jedi?" she repeated. "Interesting indeed. Are you the cargo he nearly lost to that warlord?"

Qui-Gon glanced briefly at Demilla with a look that flustered Yon. "We are very grateful that you've agreed to take us as far as Lahopa, captain. It's unfortunate that we were stranded here."

"But fortunate that I ended up here at the same time as you," Marina pointed out. "Space is big, and even someone with as many old flames as Yon can't guarantee he'll run into someone he knows when he needs them."

"Yes, considering where we were headed," the Master agreed, turning his gaze completely on Captain Demilla this time. "I find it very curious that we ended up in the Outer Rim, when we should have been on course for the Core Worlds. This planet is far beyond the route we should have been taking."

Yon straightened up, his muscled arms bristling, and faced the challenge. "There is no reason to call me into question, Master Jedi. I had to plot a course through the edge of the Outer Rim in order to avoid the hyperspace lanes controlled by the Trade Federation. They're not very nice to independent cargo haulers trying to pass through their territory, even more so of late." His face hardened with an unpleasant frown. "Coming at Coruscant from here would have been no slower nor quicker than routing through Trade Federation space. Unless you wanted to be diverted for hours and subjected to a search and interrogation?"

Qui-Gon's face remained placid as he digested the captain's explanation. "Still, I should have liked to have been informed. Be glad I didn't confront you in front of your crew."

Marina looked away like she was trying to ignore the conversation. Demilla folded his arms over his brawny chest. "I carry enough regret that you had to be on board during this attack, and that your friend was so severely injured by a little problem that should have been mine alone. I would offer you compensation if it would ease your mind, but you will not take any."

"Your assistance in getting us passage is enough," Qui-Gon assured, his demeanor softening. "All debts are settled. If we do not see you again on Lahopa, I wish you well in recovering from this attack. Your enemy showed his weakness by not daring to show his face to you."

"And he will pay for it," Demilla vowed. "You may ignore the slight, but it is my way to get vengeance. Killing my crew, destroying my ship, and causing grief to a passenger who had nothing to do with me is a heavy debt this warlord incurred."

"Yon," Marina interrupted, "go take care of your ship. There was a Jawa sandcrawler in the area earlier, they might be headed out to try and salvage it for themselves."

"Like hell they will. Master..." Yon Demilla bowed his head elegantly to the Jedi. "As they say, may the Force be with you."

Qui-Gon inclined his head in acceptance. The captain let his eyes fall on Obi-Wan and I in turn to indicate his blessing was meant for us as well, and then briefly gave Jek some information and pressed a credit chip into his hand before turning to leave. He cracked a cool smile at Marina and winked, and then he was gone.

"What a character," Marina snorted. "Well, Master Jedi, I've got a few hours while I load cargo. You can either get on board or wander around Anchorhead for a while. I've got work to do. My copilot, Wey, is onboard." She turned and sashayed away, and I snickered to myself when I saw Jek's eyes follow her figure.

Wandering around Anchorhead was out of the question, but I felt like I had seen enough on the way in to satisfy my deep inner wish to say I had seen Tatooine. The freighter was built to carry a small number of passengers, meaning actual passenger cabins with two bunks in each. I had a bunk all to myself at last, not quite soft, but compared to where I had slept the night before, it was luxury. At least it was flat. I didn't know whether my companions were intrigued enough by the slight disturbance they both sensed to try to check it out while they waited for Marina's cargo to load, so I pleaded with them not to leave me alone when they brought me into the cabin and helped me into bed. Smiling down at me with a touch of sorrow for my plight, the Master promised to stay by my side even if I fell asleep on him, and Obi-Wan swore he wouldn't leave the ship. As soon as I laid down, and Qui-Gon took back his tabard-piece so my arm could be a little more free, I closed my eyes and was out like a light.

When at last I woke up, the freighter had taken off; I could hear the thrum of the hyperdrive and feel the subtle vibration that pervaded the ship's bulkheads. Qui-Gon held true to his promise, in a way: he was sound asleep on the other bunk in the cabin, his robe haphazardly covering him. Now that we were out of the sunlight and under artificial illumination, I could see he had gotten mildly sunburned across his rugged cheeks by his journey. I laid there for a while just blinking in the dim light, feeling out which parts of me still hurt and whether I had gotten enough sleep or should just roll back over, when Obi-Wan came in from parts unknown. From his disheveled robes, mussed-up hair, and hollow eyes, I guessed he had been asleep as well, but he mustered a smile for me. "I thought I sensed you waking," he murmured so as not to disturb his Master's sleep.

"Are we off Tat...the planet?" I groaned, catching myself quickly enough. He nodded. "How long?"

"A few hours," the Padawan replied, going to my bag which had been shoved under my bunk and digging through it for a spare piece of clothing. "You've been asleep for over ten hours, you know," he added, lifting his head up just enough to fix me squarely in the eye with a smirk.

I laid my head back down on the pallet and smiled dreamily back. "It's been a long night and day. Couple days."

He found what he was looking for and paused, resting his elbows on his knees. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little," I had to confess. "Still achey, but...sleep helped a lot." Grimacing and grunting, I forced myself to a sitting position and swung my legs off the bunk. "Quick ship's tour. Which way to the refresher?"

"Turn left outside this door, it's on your left." Obi-Wan smiled sweetly as he got up and stepped out of my way, starting to undo his tunics in order to swap his undertunic for one less dirty and sweaty.

Staggering down the corridor looking for the refresher served to test the limits of my bruised limbs, giving me insight into where it still hurt. Fortunately, my bad knee had suffered no further damage, but I had calf strains, sharp pains in my lower back, and aches all up through my shoulders to the bruising on my arms where I guessed I must have thrown them up to protect my head as I fell through the dying Darkstar. From listening to conversations going on around me since being rescued from the ship, I gathered that the Darkstar's shields had failed just as we entered the atmosphere of Tatooine, we had been hit once, possibly twice, and the engines blew during entry. Power couplings and conduits then exploded all through the ship, causing it to lose just about every function. Captain Demilla had wrestled the sluggish controls toward the heading he desired, having already pointed the navigation system toward Anchorhead, and he managed to stay on his feet even as the ship missed the city and headed out over the dunes. He pulled the Darkstar out of a nosedive in time to splash it across the sands on its belly, after which he lost all control and had to just grab hold of the console and ride out the skid. The impact and subsequent tumble threw anyone not strapped in around the ship's insides like toys. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan made it out of the engine room before the explosions, and were halfway up the ramped corridor between decks when the ship went out of control. They both ducked into a side-tube and braced themselves, anticipating the crash and reaching for the Force to buoy at least their bodies if not the whole ship when Qui-Gon felt my mental brush of assurance. Impact knocked them both forward, Qui-Gon was struck unconscious against the bulkhead, but they had been prepared and didn't suffer so much as a scratch in the end. With my 20/20 hindsight I now felt rather stupid for trying to get back to the crew cabins, but after hearing Demilla's story I wasn't so sure I would have wanted to be in the cockpit watching Tatooine rush up to meet us.

Upon returning to the passenger cabin, having taken an extraordinarily long time to inch up and down the corridor, I found Qui-Gon awake, sitting on his bunk talking to Obi-Wan, who sat on mine facing him. "So that was Tatooine," the apprentice was saying, but their conversation ceased when I came in. Both got to their feet. "Is that better?" Obi-Wan asked me.

"In the relative scope of things," I grumbled. "I won't be better until I've washed up, changed, and taken a good strong painkiller."

Qui-Gon's arms extended to gather me into the room as I hobbled forward, and steered me gently back to my bunk. "Well, for the moment you can accomplish at least one of the three," he said wryly. "You will have all the medical attention you need when we reach Lahopa."

I grimaced at the strain to my back as he sat me down. "What's that?"

"Lahopa is both a planet and a trading outpost in the Mid Rim, approximately halfway between the Outer Rim and Coruscant," he answered. "We will be landing on the station, where there are medical facilities and any number of ships heading in all directions. We must get passage from there to Coruscant on our own - I will try to contact the Jedi Temple and request a ship be sent for us."

"Oh, good." My stomach growled loudly at that moment, reminding me that I hadn't eaten for almost two days. "How much longer until we get there?"

"I don't know. I will have to ask the captain. But first, I think we should all get something to eat, and I will see if Jek needs anything."

Both Jedi drifted out of the cabin, leaving me a few minutes of alone-time to change clothes. Hours on the climate-controlled ship had rendered everything inside my bag nice and cool, but there was a little bit of Tatooine sand caught inside it and in cracks and crevices. Too late I realized I should have picked up a rock or something just to say that I possessed a piece of the legendary planet. I slipped into fresh trousers and a lightweight shirt, which I could sleep or lay around in more comfortably, and made my way out to the corridor in time to catch a supporting arm from Obi-Wan. Captain Marina met us in the ship's tiny lounge and joined us for a meal, peppering Master Qui-Gon with questions to get the full story of the Darkstar's crash. Apparently, her "old flame" had given her only the barest sketch. "She was a good ship, got us out of many a scrape," she mused over her drink. "But not even an old blockade runner can take a Star Courier's cannons for long." Her eyes flicked to the Master's face. "Was anybody killed?"

"Captain Demilla lost two of his crew," Qui-Gon said quietly.

I frowned at him. "But you only...uh, took care of one body," I remembered, though I didn't really want to. "Who was the other one?"

Qui-Gon glanced briefly at me before deciding to answer. "The gunner was killed when the shot that knocked us out of hyperspace destroyed the laser cannon. There was a breach in the hull, he was lost in space."

"Oh." That'll teach me to be curious.

"Well, that explains a lot," Marina said. "The Star Courier might have been more powerful, but the Darkstar could've held out a lot longer if she had been able to shoot back. You might have made it down to the surface without crashing."

Obi-Wan excused himself to bring some food to Jek in the second passenger cabin, leaving us with a brief, ponderous silence at the table. I looked across to Marina. "So you were actually on the crew of the Darkstar once?"

She snorted good-naturedly. "I was Yon's copilot for a few years, until I saved up enough to get my own ship. We only had a brief fling in that time, our personalities were too divergent to last as even captain and copilot for very long. He's too spiritual for me."

I couldn't stop the derisive laugh that bubbled out of me. "Captain Demilla. Spiritual?"

"It's the nature of Chalactans. Oh, honey, you haven't even seen half of him," Marina grinned. "He's usually good under pressure, you just managed to see him when he didn't have control over the situation. Good fighter, too - why do you think he doesn't carry a blaster?"

I had to think about that. "I didn't even notice he didn't have a blaster. But now that you mention it...everybody else did..."

"Fortunately, once the ship was down, we didn't run into any further trouble," Qui-Gon broke in.

"You guys were lucky." Marina gave the Master a kind smile to make up for talking about romantic flings and blasters in front of him. "I'm sure you'll all be much happier when we reach Lahopa, they've got everything you need. You're welcome to use the communications array to contact the Jedi if you want, Master Jinn."

"I will contact Coruscant from Lahopa," Qui-Gon declined. "By then I should have a much better idea of where we stand."

Roughly four hours later I found myself being escorted up to the freighter's cockpit to see Lahopa as we approached it, thanks to Qui-Gon thinking that I would be interested to see a space station from the outside. I was, but I had been lying down again and couldn't muster much enthusiasm for his idea. The light freighter did not have a separate viewscreen that could give us glimpses fore and aft like the Darkstar, all it had was the cockpit windows. Marina and her copilot Wey sat at the console framed against the windows, which showed nothing but stars until the ship banked steadily and the sun-lit side of a bluish globe crept into view. The planet Lahopa was not that unusual as inhabitable planets went, except for a slight purplish tint to its seas as seen from this distance, but it was not the feature of the day. High above its atmosphere and very near to us, a sprawling heavenly city came into view. Multitudes of lights belonging to visiting ships whirled around the towers, docks, and pylons radiating outward from the central core, shaped like an elongated sphere stretched along the north and south poles. They were building a space station over Earth when I left, but it would have looked nothing like this. I couldn't tell as I stared out the cockpit windows whether the station was rotating on its axis, or orbiting the planet for that matter. It seemed to be far enough from the planet that it orbited just like a moon - though it was less than half the size of an average one. I stared in fascination, leaning on Qui-Gon's arm. What an excellent addition to my collection of memories of this galaxy.

Docking proceeded in an entirely uneventful manner, and very shortly after we were saying thank you and farewell to Marina as we disembarked onto a drab metal tarmac just inside one of the docking rings of Lahopa station. A spindly droid with a repulsorlift chair stood waiting at the edge of a landing circle painted on the tarmac. Qui-Gon had called ahead to ask for assistance from the medical bay, so he and Obi-Wan would not have to try to haul both of us injured passengers all the way to the facility by themselves. The droid hustled forward as it saw us come down out of the freighter. "Assistance required?" it presumed.

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered, helping Jek limp forward to the chair floating beside the droid. "Direct us to the medical bay. The rest of us will walk," he added as Jek slumped into the chair with a grunt.

"Right this way." The droid moved on wheels, facilitating its abrupt about-face as it headed across the tarmac. Master Qui-Gon scooped me up in his arms yet again, and I laid my head on his shoulder as he started off behind the droid, leaving Obi-Wan to bring up the rear and the baggage.

A number of beings milled about on the tarmac, clad either in flight gear or work jumpsuits, pilots and crew mingled in with mechanics and station staff. We passed through a wide arch, leaving the enormous open space of the hangar for a low-ceilinged corridor flanked with lights and painted Aurabesh symbols. The docking hangars were busy places for a station like this, linked by intersecting corridors with each other and the main hub of activity, the central core, where something was always going on because there was no day and night cycle onboard the station. Various voices in at least four languages echoed through the corridors, making announcements about which ship was leaving from which hangar, on which level certain establishments could be found, and so on. I found the cross-section of sentient life represented here arresting, though my neck hurt too much to keep looking every which way. The closer we got to the core, the less I saw of pilots and maintenance crews and the more passengers of all kinds crossed our path. Qui-Gon told me about Lahopa in short, factual sentences as he walked, about its use as a way station for cargo haulers and passenger flights alike. From what he said about boarding rooms, restaurants, cantinas, and trade halls, I started to get the impression that Lahopa was more like an interstellar truck stop. The droid overheard him and inquired whether we would like it to lead us to where we could get rooms or meet trade partners, but the Master curtly told it, "Just take us to the medical bay."

More droids staffed the medical facilities, which we reached after taking a lift that brought us straight to the entrance, though a couple humans also waited inside to help out. Jek was whisked away to be taken care of, and I never saw him again after that. His captain's credit chip must have made his stay on Lahopa a lot more comfortable while he waited to be picked up or contacted as to the future of the Darkstar's crew. A stiff, clunky droid glided over as Qui-Gon gently set me on my feet. "The nature of the injury?" it queried in a deep but mechanized voice.

"She dislocated a shoulder, but we set it," Master Qui-Gon replied. "Our ship crashed. I would like you to check her over for any further injuries that we could not take care of."

"This way." The droid wheeled about and puttered further into the complex, through to a small, private cubicle. I was instructed to lie down on the flat bed, and had to sit and suffer through a number of scans and tests. Qui-Gon folded his arms into his sleeves and stood aside, answering a barrage of questions about the crash and anything he noticed, while Obi-Wan waited silently at the edge of the cubicle, just watching, his eyes dark and intense in the dim, artificial light of the medical bay. The droid paused to process results, and then announced, "There is one more scan to perform. Wait here, it will be set up."

Qui-Gon nodded once and watched the droid bundle out. Obi-Wan finally crept into the cubicle to his Master's side. "What do we do, now?"

"We need to contact the Jedi Temple, so I can request transport," Qui-Gon murmured. "I don't want to put us at the mercy of another unreliable freighter captain."

"Hey, Marina wasn't unreliable," I defended from where I lay.

The Master gave me a slight smile. "Unfortunately, she's not going to Coruscant or anywhere near the Core. It would be best if the Temple could request a star shuttle be sent for us." He glanced at me as the medical droid whirred back in, his brow furrowing uncertainly. "I will have to go and take care of that. Stay here with Stacey, and contact me when you have answers."

"Master, wait." Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder at me, and then back up at his Master. "Let me do it. You can stay here with her."

The two Jedi held each others' gaze for a moment, Qui-Gon's frown easing from his face. "All right. Thank you, Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded, and gave me another glance, this time with a smile, as he swept out of the cubicle with his robe floating regally behind him. I looked warily up at Master Qui-Gon as he came to the droid's side. "What was that all about?"

He smiled softly. "I have been running around trying to take care of everything, but I haven't taken time to be with you in the middle of this...this crisis." His eyes saddened. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," I assured him meekly, wanting to reach out to him but prevented for the moment because I was still being scanned for injury. "Don't worry, Obi-Wan took good care of me. It doesn't feel like you just left me with him or anything."

"Scans are complete," the medical droid interrupted. "Heart rate and blood pressure are normal. Inflammation is detected around left side shoulder socket, minor muscle strains in various locations. No other internal injuries detected."

Qui-Gon couldn't stop himself from heaving a sigh of relief. "And the concussion?"

"Loss of consciousness was minimal. Scans show no further swelling or bleeding. A low-grade concussion of this kind requires only rest." The droid's head rotated in the Master's direction and sized him up. "External lacerations and blood vessel breakage have been treated sufficiently. No further treatment is required. Are there any concerns not addressed?"

"I still hurt," I griped.

"Yes, can we be given something to ease the inflammation and her pain?" Qui-Gon requested. "Something stronger than salacil."

"The lead physician on duty can prescribe treatment," the droid acknowledged.

"Thank you. That will be all, then," the Master dismissed.

I sat up carefully, rubbing at the twinge in my lower back. "That's it?"

Qui-Gon snorted at me. "Were you hoping for more?"

"Well, no, it's just...I feel like I did more than just bruise myself all over." I accepted his help to get off the bed. "Painkiller would be good, though."

"I think when we return to the Jedi Temple, I will take you to the healers," Qui-Gon decided as I limped down the hallway, using my Be'a'lai fighting stick to help. "I brought you here to make sure you were stable, that there was nothing I missed that could be life-threatening. If all you suffer is muscle pain and bruising, the healers at the Temple will be able to help."

"Sounds good to me."

One of the humans guarding the medical bay stood at a desk just at the entrance, and was all too happy to answer any further questions and hand out medication. He had a printout of the droid's readings handy, and when he heard that he was in the presence of Jedi, agreed with the assessment that healers of another kind could do what he could not. "Not many physicians advocate alternative treatments," he confessed as he tapped something into a computer, "but I've been out here on the Mid Rim for years, I've seen things some Core-bound medical professionals wouldn't believe." He handed over an opaque vial, giving Qui-Gon a sly smile. "And I've seen Jedi before, I know what the Force can do for them. Your friend should be just fine with some rest and a few of these to alleviate the pain."

We thanked him and headed out, ducking down the corridor instead of going to the lift. I thought it curious that Qui-Gon was never asked for payment or records or anything, but I preferred to assume that it was all taken care of, by the Jedi Temple if nothing else. He took me aside to a quiet place to sit down and overlook the multiple layers of the busy station while he set down my bag and retrieved his comlink. Obi-Wan responded right away. "I've just finished, Master," he said. "Are you still in the medical bay?"

"Just outside it, actually," Qui-Gon informed him. "What did they say?"

"I would prefer to speak to you about it in person, Master." Obi-Wan's voice was thick with apprehension.

"Very well. Meet us on this level, at the information center." He closed down the channel and tucked his comlink away. "Ready for a short walk?"

"I guess," I shrugged.

Qui-Gon helped me up, and provided a steady arm to lean on as we paced slowly along the corridor, steering away from the evenly-spaced gaps where one could get a phenomenal view of this segment of the station. It seemed this tier was taken up mostly by crew and staff quarters, as well as the very large medical bay and emergency facilities. We kept going through austere gray halls, following a color-coded stripe on the wall, until we reached another lift, or bank of lifts, and a great terminal sitting in the middle of the wide bay that reminded me of an over-sized "you are here" console from a mall. Only, I saw as we came up to it, its interactive interface held more than just a map of Lahopa station. Master Qui-Gon's fingers flew across keypads and the touch-sensitive image, not only locating our current position but zooming out on the station, then back in to another level as the readout highlighted this and that. I caught a few of the words but still didn't understand. "What are you looking for?" I wondered.

"Places to stay," he idly answered. "Just in case."

"I'd settle for a place to eat," I said bemusedly, eyeing my bag crumpled at his feet. "A chance to shower is probably too much to ask for."

"Not necessarily," he corrected, smiling sidelong at me. "I think I will want to book a room regardless, so we can all rest before the last leg of our journey. This painkiller is quite strong, you probably will want to stay in bed while it works."

"Ooo, killer stuff." I leaned on my fighting stick. "Let's see, awake but in agony, or conked out in bed but feeling no pain. Hmm."

"Say that to me again after you've taken it." He pressed one more button and then stepped away, having gotten what he needed. "Now we just have to wait for Obi-Wan."

I nodded my acceptance and set the stick down with my picture and my bag, hissing sharply at the needles of pain that caught me trying to straighten back up. Qui-Gon reached to help me, his arms buoying me until the brief wave of dizziness passed and I could catch my breath. Frustrated, I leaned into him, and let him catch me up into his embrace. He was careful not to press against my left shoulder, but otherwise held me close to him, gently rubbing a hand along my back as I rested my head on his chest. The brave walls I had built around my emotions over the past couple of days failed, and I whimpered into his tunics, finally able to be afraid and upset instead of courageous and strong. He would be strong for me instead, I could let go and experience the full gamut of emotion that I had denied myself while too busy worrying instead that he and Obi-Wan were going to find Anakin too early and destroy the galaxy's hope. I had just been through a disastrous crash, seriously injured, temporarily stranded on Tatooine of all places, surrounded by death and helplessness - and I could finally feel something about it. Qui-Gon must have sensed it, and understood, for he only held me, his large hand cradling my head as I breathed heavily and shuddered against his chest, not feeling enough for tears but still rendered incoherent by the shock and the realization of how close we all came to being killed.

Qui-Gon held me in silence for a while, not interrupting the flow of my emotions until they started to settle back down. I could feel the racing pulse in my neck against his warm, firm hand. At last, he whispered, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"No," I whined with my face still pressed to his tunics. "Master...don't."

"What?"

"Don't be sorry." I lifted my head and looked up at him. "I'll tell you what I told Obi-Wan: things happen. Accidents happen. It's all right. You were needed, you did what you had to do and I'm so grateful to you for it. Somebody had to get us off Tatooine." I laid my head back down and nuzzled his chest. "Don't regret having to take action and leave me with Obi-Wan for one instant. I never doubted you. Thank you for taking care of me."

Qui-Gon's arm around me tightened gently for a moment. "It was not my intention to get so caught up in taking care of everything that I did not take a moment to comfort you," he murmured. "I promise you, I will make up for that."

"You don't have to," I insisted, and then looked up at him with a little grin. "But, if you really want to, I won't stop you."

A smile broke out on his rugged face. "You are too easy to please." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and then stepped away from me, his arms still cradling me cautiously. "Come, let's sit you down. I know your back is bothering you. What about your knee?"

"Actually, surprisingly, my chronically bad knee was not hurt at all," I said with some humor as he eased me to a seat on a bench set back in the wall between lifts. "It's about the only thing, but..."

I had just a few minutes to sit and gather my wits before one of the lifts on the far side of the bay, across from the information console, hissed open to admit Obi-Wan. He strode right over, his face blank and serious but his eyes alive with a smile for me. Qui-Gon faced him squarely. "Well?"

"I couldn't reach Master Plo," his apprentice answered, stepping into a terse ready stance with his hands in his robe sleeves, "so I was redirected to Master Yarael. Unfortunately, he said that a star shuttle would 'absolutely not' be available to send after us, not even with injured to transport. You are instructed to book passage on a ship of your choosing." His young face twitched with displeasure. "I asked him to take a message to Master Plo on your behalf, to apprise him of the extended delay in our return."

"Very well. Good, thank you, Padawan." The Master indulged himself in a tired sigh. "It is as I feared. Then, we will stay on the station for a night, give ourselves a chance to rest and clean up, before I secure passage to Coruscant. I've already looked into a few possibilities." He stepped back in front of the information console, Obi-Wan gliding up alongside him to see. I didn't know what they were looking at, I could only hear them conversing about it. "The station is fairly full right now, for some reason. I thought of going high-end but I would never hear the end of it."

"It looks like there are a few places left down here," Obi-Wan noted, pointing to something on the console. "It's extremely low-cost, but I'm not sure how safe that tier is."

"It may be our only option at this point. I want to be off the station within a galactic standard day, so it will only be for a few hours. We can handle ourselves."

"I had so hoped we were through watching our backs for a time."

"The only place where we can be sure of that is the Jedi Temple," Qui-Gon wryly stated.

The lifts took us straight down to the tiers of Lahopa station where room and board could be had, or at least the cheap motel versions of it. Little foot traffic bothered these promenades, the upper-class patrons preferring luxury suites above us and the seedy characters lurking on tiers farther below. The nondescript passages lined with numbered doors looked to me to be middle-of-the-road, more suited to semi-permanent residents of Lahopa and staff. Beings either shrank out of our way or watched with cunning interest as Qui-Gon plowed the way for us, his shoulders thrown back and a look of no-nonsense on his face. He knew what he wanted, and found it in due order. A small cubicle set back into the wall served as front desk for a block of rooms, its slimy clerk looking rather confused when strangers approached him for a room. Master Qui-Gon's dactaris were good, though, so he handed over the key-card to the largest available quarters in that segment of the promenade. He tried to charge us twice the going rate for it, but Qui-Gon managed to bargain him down without having to resort to a mind trick. "It isn't much," the clerk sullenly tried to tell us as he coded the credit chip for the price. "Spacers looking for a night's crash and a place to wash up mostly."

"That is all we need," the Master assured him. "Where can we get a list of passenger transports embarking in the next thirty-six hours?"

The creature pointed to the ceiling. "Up on B'zak Tier."

Qui-Gon nodded and picked up the key-card. "Thank you."

"If you're hungry," the clerk added as we moved away, "try Tobee's on this tier. Not as fancy or exotic as some of the places on Gol Tier, but it's good food. And cheap."

"Again, thank you," the Master nodded, this time with a tight smile. As we continued up the promenade looking for our room number, I heard him murmur, "See? This isn't so bad."

And it wasn't. The room was dim and boring, looking more like military quarters than a hotel room, but relatively clean and not detestable. Four sleep couches were set back into alcoves, in pairs of bunks, and the wall across from the main door contained a sink with a mirror, a postage-stamp-sized table, and the door to the refresher. Once the door whooshed closed, I found myself divested of my belongings and ushered to one of the bunks by my two protectors. Exhaustion proved stronger than my slight hunger, so I indulged their prompting and kicked off my shoes, looking forward to uninterrupted rest and the painkiller the medical bay had given me. "Let me take some of it and lie down," I implored Qui-Gon. "I'll be out like a light, then you two don't have to worry about fussing over me so much."

Smirking, the Master knelt by the bunk and dumped a single white pill onto his palm. "This should be enough. I'm warning you, it will knock you out."

"Anything's preferable to these aches and pains," I groaned. I swallowed it without pause and settled back, half expecting it to work right away. It didn't. "What about you two?"

"I need sleep," Obi-Wan sighed.

"As do I," Qui-Gon said, "but first I will wash up." He flicked on the light in the refresher and paused to look. "Good, it looks like I can." His eyes flicked to me briefly. "In case you're already asleep when I'm finished, good night."

"Night," I wished him, and he disappeared inside.

Obi-Wan dropped his robe from his shoulders, which he threw up on the top bunk across from me, and set his lightsaber on the table in plain view. "What did they say up in the medical bay?"

"They gave me an all clear," I muttered, sprawling out on the bunk. "Nothing else is broken or anything, just some inflammation in the shoulder." I reached across me as I lay on my back and gingerly felt my left shoulder, wincing at the little tingles of pain in the joint. "I guess I should thank heaven for small blessings - it's my left shoulder. I'm right-handed, I can still write and draw just fine."

"So you'll have something to do while you're recovering," Obi-Wan noted as he sat down and pulled off his boots. "That's good news."

"I've never felt that much pain before," I mused, thinking back to the horrible moments just after the crash, about being unable to even move my arm, about the agony of re-locating the shoulder. "Not even the two or three times I've blown out my knee. I've heard people talk about pain like that, but...never have I felt it before. That's one experience I don't wish to ever repeat."

"It is necessary, unfortunately," Obi-Wan mused. "There is no other way to fix a dislocation. It would have been less troublesome if you had been unconscious when we did it, but we couldn't wait for that."

I grinned over at him. "Nice way to distract me. When Qui-Gon was setting my shoulder."

The Padawan looked away, blushing a little. "Did you like that? I thought it might have been a little...over the top."

I lowered my voice. "The question is...did you mean it, or was it just to distract me?"

He still refused to look my way. "Well, it was meant to distract you," he began shyly. "It's not like I could have done anything with you injured anyway. But..." His eyes slowly began to travel in my direction, shining in the dim florescent light. "...the feeling itself is entirely sincere."

A dreamy smile melted onto my lips. I dropped my voice all the way to a whisper. "I liked the way you called me 'love.' It was...nice. Sorta...wow. I like that."

"Uh oh." Obi-Wan snickered as he stepped nearer. "The painkiller is starting to work."

"Wha...?" I squinted up at him.

"I can tell. You're starting to become incoherent." He rested a hand on the bunk over me and leaned down. "Just relax. We'll be right here when you wake up."

"M'not incohered," I mumbled, to which some inner part of my brain said oh yes you are. My eyes closed of their own accord and I started to feel like I was hearing every tiny sound from a far-off distance, like the rustle of Obi-Wan's tunics or the hum of the ventilation system. I wanted to stay awake long enough to say a few more things to the Padawan, to capture this fleeting moment of privacy while his Master was in the other room, but once my eyes were closed, it didn't take long for the narcotic painkiller to shut down all systems and render me incapable of saying anything.

In the end, the painkiller only made me drowsy and brain-dead, but did not make it any easier to sleep even when the lights of the cabin went out and the noise of Jedi getting ready for bed ceased. There was some brief discussion when Qui-Gon came out of the refresher, about the same time as the interior light switched from full-on to somewhat more dim, but I understood almost nothing of it. My senses were dulled and thick, and time passed unmeasured while I drifted in and out of awareness. Being unable to roll over onto one side, I found I couldn't get comfortable enough to stay asleep, only catching short snatches in between long periods of frustration in which I lay with my eyes closed against what I thought was blackness, railing against the heavy feeling of the narcotic. In time, though, the side effects of the drug wore off and it finally became obvious to me that the pain in my shoulder was gone and the rest of me felt pretty good. I could hear again, registering the slow rhythm of breathing in the bunks across the room, and felt a dim glow against my shuttered eyelids. There was a constant drone just quiet enough that it invaded the otherwise utterly silent chamber, working its way through sleep and dreams to my mind and keeping me from nodding off once I had woken up fully.

Once, I thought I heard the rustle of movement, and blinked my eyes cautiously open. A few feet away stood Obi-Wan, and his presence arrested my sleepy attention. He looked fresh out of bed, his spiky Padawan hair tousled from sleep, making me wonder if in fact hours had passed. Stripped of his tunics, he stood with his back to my bunk while he used the small mirror on the wall to examine his body for bruises and cuts. A blue safety light was all he had, as he wouldn't turn on the bright lights to disturb me or his Master. His smooth skin glowed silver in its tint, his muscles rippling powerfully as he turned this way and that, peering at his reflection as he tested the dark patches on his skin with his fingertips. There was quite a bruise on his right shoulder blade, as big as a fist, but apart from that he appeared whole...and gorgeous. His braid lay like a silken black ribbon against his bare chest, and the blue light sculpted his flexed arms into silvery hills and ridges when he raised one over his head to examine a small purplish patch on his ribs. He didn't notice that I was awake, watching, though I don't know how he couldn't hear my accelerated breathing and aching sighs. When he felt satisfied that he had figured out why everything hurt, he stepped to one side and vanished into the refresher. I let out the breath I had been holding and glanced around. There was no way to tell what time it was, and the blue safety light made our quarters look like night. Across from me, the only thing I could see of Qui-Gon was his huge shape shrouded in a blanket, turned away from me, and the dark cascade of his hair on the pillow. Nothing remained to be done but go back to sleep if I could, since it looked like neither Jedi was in any shape to demand waking or daily routine. Mentally thanking heaven that my shoulder no longer ached, I closed my eyes and searched for a little more rest.

On to part 56

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