"Better," I offered him anyway. It was good to see him looking cheerful - relatively speaking - once again.

His eyes shifted to Obi-Wan. "What is it?"

"It's nothing, Master," the Padawan tried to assure him.

"Food poisoning," I explained.

Qui-Gon looked sharply at me, and then back at Obi-Wan. "It was accidental," Obi-Wan insisted. "A day or two of rest and fluids and I'll be fine."

That temporarily satisfied the Master. "And you?" he added to me.

"I have to go back and see them again tomorrow afternoon," I said. "Master Dohemaka figures that should be enough to take care of me. I already feel loads better. But no strenuous activity for a while."

"I figured as much," Qui-Gon mused, dropping his robe from his shoulders and draping it neatly over the back of a chair. "I will let Master Kinse know what happened."

"I'm going to have to start from square one again," I grumbled, following the Master's movement with my eyes. "I've been stationary so long it feels like everything I managed to build up has all gone soft again."

"It's necessary, if you want to heal," Qui-Gon gently reminded me. He looked around quarters for a moment, frowned, and headed for his bedroom. I heard him exclaim "ah," in the doorway before disappearing. Curious, I got up to see what he was hunting for.

Apparently, whoever he had sent down here with our baggage from the journey had left it in his room; my stick leaned against the wall next to the door, and Qui-Gon was already sorting clothing from the bag into piles for the laundry. I came in just in time to be handed my journal, which I clutched to my chest like a security blanket. "What did the Council have to say?" I wondered.

Qui-Gon glanced briefly over his shoulder at me. "More than I could relate to you in just a few short words." He kept sorting through the clothing, which was primarily mine but contained a couple articles belonging to him and Obi-Wan. Personally, I figured he could just toss all of it in the wash. "Fortunately, we will not be assigned to a new mission anytime soon. Sorting out this issue will take some time, and likely a fair number of meetings." He glanced again, and couldn't hold back a smile. "You're stuck with us for a while."

"Oh, darn," I giggled. "Want me to call up requisition about the laundry?"

"I'll take care of it," he demurred kindly. "There's no need to worry yourself over chores."

I sighed in frustration. "Master, stop it. I'm okay, I can get back to living a normal life. You don't have to coddle me."

Qui-Gon straightened up and faced me, wearing his too-familiar inscrutable look that resisted all argument and persuasion. "The healers told you to avoid strenuous activity for a while, did they not?"

I fixed him with a sarcastic glare. "Picking up a pile of laundry is not strenuous."

He chuckled faintly, and took a few steps closer to me. "Allow me this little thing," he murmured, his hand coming up and fingertips alighting on my cheek. "If I wish to take care of you, why should you resist?"

I looked away from his pointed gaze, tilting my head to acknowledge the strong hand cupping my cheek. "I just don't like being helpless," I shrugged. "I've never been very good at letting people take care of me, even when I wanted them to. Stupid independent streak."

Another warm chuckle. "It seems the lessons I need to teach Obi-Wan can be applied to you as well, sometimes." I lifted my eyes to him, and we exchanged smiles for a silent moment before he released me and stepped aside to the bureau near the door. He reached around him to one of the pouches on his belt and, with great solemnity, brought out a small stone which he placed among the collection in the flat jar on top of the bureau. It made a noisy clink as it settled among the odd conglomeration, rocks both plain and jewel-like, none of them larger than a fifty-cent piece. Qui-Gon must have noticed me peering at them, for he explained without my having to pester him, "When I have the chance, I like to bring a small piece of the worlds I visit back with me, to remember those on which something memorable has happened."

I smiled affectionately at him. "That definitely sounds like something you would do. It's really kind of neat..."

The Master picked up the stone he had just added to his collection and held it out to me. There was nothing remarkable about it, except perhaps for the dark mineral threads racing across the light shale surface. "I picked this up on the top of the bluff in the mour preserve, where we looked out over Daramin's wild, unspoiled landscape."

"To help you remember the mour," I realized, "even if we hadn't seen any just then." I looked to him for permission, and then put the rock back in its new home myself. "You'll have to tell me the stories behind them someday."

"Someday when you're incredibly bored and would find it fascinating," Qui-Gon said wryly, "of course."

"You didn't pick up one on Tatooine, did you?"

His face darkened vaguely. "I didn't think there was a reason to remember being there. I didn't even know what world we were on until we had almost left it." A flicker of thought raced through his eyes, and he dug in the belt pouch again. After a moment, he presented me with a small, flat disc of metal. "I found this on the ground in Anchorhead while I waited for Captain Demilla to finish his negotiations. Here."

I turned the disc over in my fingers and grinned. A wupiupi coin. "Thanks. This is even cooler..." I gave him a sly glance, burying my true intentions behind thick walls in my mind. "But if you ever happen to find yourself on Tatooine again, pick me up a rock. You may not want to remember what happened there, but I sort of do."

Leaving my unique birthday presents in his room for the time being, I went out and put my journal on the table where I could find it later, Qui-Gon following right behind me. His keen gaze, always in motion even in the safe confines of quarters, caught something on the nearby communications console. "You didn't see that we had messages when you came in?" he asked generally.

Obi-Wan sat up cautiously and looked towards his Master. "I'm sorry, I didn't think to check, Master," he said. "I admit I had other things on my mind."

"It's all right, you deserve to rest and recover," Qui-Gon reassured, waving a hand at him. I went back and sat down while he tapped at keys to bring up the messages. "It looks like there is just one," he reported. "Sent about two days ago." After a few moments he made a low "hmm" that didn't sound very positive. "The signal source can't be traced. It was re-routed several times to make the sender's location impossible to pinpoint."

Where had I heard that before? "Uh oh. I don't like the sound of that."

Master Qui-Gon pressed a button to start the replay, and within seconds both Obi-Wan and I had shot out of our seats to gather around as a surprised, scowling audience. A six-inch tall holographic figure stood before us, wrapped tightly in a concealing cloak, but it was the cool voice oozing from the message that got our attention. "Welcome home, Qui-Gon," said the holograph of Xanatos.

"Master...!" Obi-Wan started, but Qui-Gon held up a hand to silence him so we could listen.

"I must say, I was disappointed to hear that you made it off Daramin safely, though not without an incident or two, they say," Xanatos went on, his figure motionless but his voice running the gamut of emotion, from gloating to disgust and back again. "I had a feeling that for all their swelling words, the Daramindi wouldn't know how to actually kill you. The Pfand may be good liars and thieves, but they detest open violence, while the Nego are simply incompetent at it. I suppose I'll have to wait a bit longer before I toast the news of your demise.

"However, I do owe you a small word of gratitude for preserving Offworld. Knowing you, the Jedi High Council is going to hear of it regardless, but I'm sure I hardly need to ask that you remember everything we talked about. That goes for your Padawan," Xanatos snarled, "and your other friend as well. Speaking of whom..."

Both Jedi flicked their gazes to me, and I almost thought I felt a tremor of worry in the Force from one or both of them. The holographic message kept going, "...I hope you didn't think I was joking when I warned you about her. Being able to hide one's presence in the Force is a...valuable skill. If she surfaces as the Republic's new secret weapon, I shall have to see at what price information about her would be worth sharing. But then," he purred, at his oiliest yet, "you wouldn't dare put her in harm's way, would you? Such a naïve innocent, precious to you it seems. How absolutely nauseating."

Xanatos paused for a deep breath and a change of subject. The three of us kept glaring at his little blue figure. "One last thing. I must compliment you, my old Master, at your cleverness. Putting your report on Daramin and all your valuable evidence in code! I would never have expected it from you. Well done! Given time, perhaps someone might crack it, unless it is complete gibberish meant to drive your enemies crazy, trying to crack a dummy code. But, I think not. It's of no matter to me now, I believe this matter is out of my hands. Very clever of you, though. Sleep well tonight, old friend. It must comfort you to not have to look over your shoulder anymore." The holograph wavered, fizzled, and vanished.

We stood in bewildered silence for a few minutes, until I managed to grumble, "My writing is not gibberish."

"How did he know?" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "He has the file. How did he get it? Was he, then, responsible for the break-in at Takra?"

Qui-Gon shook his head tersely. "No, I know who ordered and orchestrated the break-in. With Trora's help, one of the last things I did before we left was identify the culprit." He glanced at me, and then his apprentice. "It was some underling in the Executor's office. Xanatos had nothing to do with it." He looked back at the blank communicator console again, his brow furrowing. "Yet, it's apparent that he intercepted the thieves at some point and made off with what they took from us."

"Thank goodness the only really valuable information was in code," I reminded, "and Xanatos doesn't seem to have broken it." I shook my head fiercely. "That's so like him. Bites the hand that feeds him. Begging for your help while behind your back he's plotting and scheming against you."

Qui-Gon merely bowed his head and wandered away from the communicator. Obi-Wan agreed with me. "He must have been looking for any information that could be useful to him, either professionally or personally. He had to have been watching us also, to know that we had been robbed and get to the thieves before we could."

I shivered at that. "He was watching us? Oh great." I looked toward the retreating Master. "You heard what he said about me..."

Qui-Gon lifted his head and confidently told me, "You're not in danger."

"How do you know for sure? At the very least, Xanatos knows how you feel about me, and if anything I knew of his past is true, he could use me to hurt you. I know he said he doesn't feel the need for revenge anymore, but..."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily and turned back towards me. "There is always the chance, when a Jedi like myself lets himself become involved with someone, that an enemy could use it against him. Xanatos is by no means special in that regard. You can either fear them all, or trust that we will do our best to prevent any of them from succeeding." His explanation quieted my fears somewhat, leaving me with nothing to do but sigh. His expression softened as he came back near me. "Yes, Xanatos was able to sense our connection before I could block him out. And no doubt he is very intrigued by your unique presence in the Force. But I know him better than you do. I trust that he will not do anything to you, or to me. The fire has indeed gone out. All he has left now are insults and cold hatred, which he employs more out of habit than anything else."

I nodded my understanding and went back to the chair, preferring to curl up and forget about it. The message was over and erased, and I was safe inside the Jedi Temple. And yet, I couldn't help but retain a small speck of fear deep inside me.

Obi-Wan meandered back in my direction as well. "Perhaps you're right," he said, and it took a moment for me to register that he was talking to me. "We are very fortunate that not even Xanatos could break your code. It must simply frustrate him to have that file and not be able to do anything with it."

I smiled weakly as he sat back down on the couch. "Well, good. If the least I can do is tick off Xanatos, my day is complete."

He sat there in silence for a moment, gazing idly at his clasped hands. "You know," he went on, and I both sensed and knew by his manner he was about to suggest something outrageous, "if you truly are afraid that he might come after you because he thinks you're the key to the code, we might be able to do something to make it easier for you."

I merely looked at him and raised an eyebrow to prompt him to get on with it.

Obi-Wan met my gaze and fidgeted briefly. "Perhaps if I learned your lettering, you would be more safe. You wouldn't be the only key. And if we ever have an opportunity to use this code again..."

"You just want to be able to peek in my journal," I smirked at him.

His eyes widened. "N-no," he stammered, "I didn't mean anything like that..."

My tired laughter assured him that I didn't really suspect him of such motives, so he quieted again. "You really want to learn my letters?" I asked.

"Yes, I do," he insisted. "I'm intrigued by your writing. It could come in handy, you know." He lowered his eyes and blushed faintly. "And I don't want anything to happen to you if others figure out that the code originates with you."

I let my eyes wander away, toward Qui-Gon making clattering noises in the kitchen area, as I pondered the request. "Maybe," I decided. "Let me think about it. Just remember the trouble I had picking up Aurebesh - going in reverse can't be easy either."

Obi-Wan smiled enticingly. "I'm up to the challenge."

"I bet you are." I peered comically at him again. "But if I catch you anywhere near my journal..."

Now that we were home, there were certain things I wanted - and needed - to do. Leaving my companions for a short time, I went to my quarters with my things, took an excessive shower, and laid down on my bed to rest. Despite fantastic care and Force-healing, parts of me still hurt a little, and the journey left me jet-lagged. I fell asleep before I could make any decisions about what to do with the rest of the day, and didn't leave my quarters again until nearly evening. Fortunately, all I missed was Qui-Gon handling more inquiries about his report on Daramin and Obi-Wan's similar nap. After dinner, the Master sat us both down to brief us on what we could expect in the following days, based on what had happened to him at the Council. "What astonishes me is that one or two members of the High Council were not entirely surprised at certain elements of the report," he said seriously, folding his hands on the table before him. We sat in a close knot, nursing mugs of tea while we talked. "No one could foresee the attack made on us, but it seems anyone who cared to supervise the long-term mission could notice trends forming. We arrived at the same conclusion independently."

I shrugged it off. "I guess that means they've got the corroboration, like Mace Windu is always insisting on."

"What do they expect of us, now, Master?" Obi-Wan queried.

"It is very likely we will be called on to present our findings to the Council of Reconciliation, who actually oversees the assignment of teams to Daramin," Qui-Gon answered, "and without a doubt the Senate as well. Master Plo believes we may have to testify before committees in the Senate as soon as this week, though anything brought before the full assembly will have to wait until after the recess for the New Year's Fête."

"You really think the Daramindi are going to get what they want?" I wondered, frowning. "A new hearing on the treaty, or re-negotiation?"

Qui-Gon lowered his ponderous gaze for a moment. "Actually," he said heavily, "if I get the chance I will ask the Senate committee to hold hearings on the treaty. I'm not sure anymore how right it is for the Jedi Order to continue to oversee them. To protect the mour, yes, certainly in light of what we discovered there, but to have their hands so deeply into the workings of the planetary system?"

"I don't see how we can do one without doing the other, Master," Obi-Wan aloofly pointed out. "You said yourself that by their actions, the Homeworld Alliance have proved themselves unfit to rule free of guidance."

I wagged a finger. "And don't forget what the Be'a'lai chieftain said."

The Master nodded slowly. "I have not forgotten anything that was said on Daramin. It will all need to be said in council, both here and in the Senate. I have a feeling we're in for a very long series of meetings, committees, and hearings."

I smirked at him. "And who's 'we?'"

He glanced at me and chanced a smile. "Unfortunately, this time you can't escape notice. Your code is already being spoken of at high levels in the Order. Anything I was unable to properly translate, you may be called on to explain."

"Ooo boy," I sighed. "Well, all right, I guess. It's not like I've got anywhere else to be right now." The Master's comment fully hit me, then, and made me smile slyly. "So that means you two are going to be stationed on Coruscant for a while. How long do you think?"

The two Jedi gave each other knowing looks. "It will depend on how quickly the Senate gets to work on the issue," Qui-Gon replied, "but it will be few weeks at the least, possibly longer. That doesn't mean we're exempt from local missions," he added with a smart look at me.

I only grinned back, keeping all reaction within myself. Mentally, I was bouncing! Sweet! We've got more catching up to do than I expected, this is perfect! He wasn't kidding that I'm stuck with them - excellent!

"And I doubt the Senate will move so quickly as to begin hearings before the Fête recess," Obi-Wan added.

"No, it's not likely," his Master agreed. "The recess begins at the end of the week, I believe. In the meantime, there is plenty for us to do here."

It took a moment for his meaning to dawn on me. Oh, right. Things to talk about. I wasn't ready for them, every personal issue had been forced aside by the crash and my injuries. I had a feeling deep inside that neither Jedi was ready for them either, because talk immediately diverted to ideas about sparring, exercise, and other means of expanding their understanding of and relationship to the Force. Qui-Gon mentioned for the first time my experiment with a leap to Obi-Wan, who found the whole idea hilarious but wouldn't consent to show me any tricks until I healed completely. Considering I still felt exhausted and sore, I had no argument with that. It wasn't long before I decided trying to fight both gravity and approaching sleep was useless, and excused myself to my quarters and bed.

Flopping onto my bed, I hesitated before turning out the light as my eyes fell on the wupiupi coin I had tossed onto the dresser, the painting temporarily propped against the wall, and my closed journal. Eight weeks prior, accepting the invitation to join my companions on Daramin, none of us had any idea it would turn out as it did, neither the adventures nor the leaps and bounds taken in our relationships. Things changed so fast, and were still changing, still adjusting, even if on the surface I appeared to be simply existing in a static condition. I picked up my journal and paged through it to the last entry, realizing I hadn't put anything down since our last night on Daramin - before even meeting the crew of the Darkstar. Huge things had happened since then, some of which I still hadn't fully processed. Flipping to the last page marked by writing, I paused - it wasn't mine, it was Obi-Wan's. The neat, crisp angles of handwritten Aurebesh looked strange, reminding me of neither my own writing nor the digitized lettering found everywhere in this galaxy, but more like the code languages children dream up to communicate secret gossip to one another. Obi-Wan's hand fit his personality - firm, strong, sharp, straight. Nary a smudge or sloppy stroke to be had, though in places it looked quick and hasty. I tucked my pillow beneath my back for support and leaned back to try to read it, curious what he had thought to write while standing guard over the injured from the crash. Fortunately, the neatness of his hand made it easy to translate, so I sketched out some of the easier words here and there before attempting to read straight through the paragraph. He'd written more than I thought - about half a page. I started off with a wistful smile on my face, but soon was glad I had decided to tackle the translation away from an audience:

My mind is running wild right now, pulling me in multiple directions. My duty demands I remain calm and alert, so that nothing from outside can threaten my charges, but at the same time, I find it hard to stop thinking about you, wondering whether you're all right, hoping you will recover quickly, wishing I could take all your pain upon myself so you don't have to experience it. Strange, these feelings. I have been brought up not expecting to ever know them so well, to consider them a part of others' lives but not my own. I believe Qui-Gon when he says I can learn balance. I must, for the only alternative is to shut these feelings out of my mind, and I don't want to. I may find them torturous, frustrating, even painful, and there is no guarantee that someday I will not find my heart broken, but I prefer the risk to fleeing in terror from what I feel. It isn't anything like I expected. Poets speak of all-consuming fires, but I only know of a steady flame, casting light into darkness, sending heat into the cold. I feel your warmth when you walk into a room, when you smile at me. It fills me from head to foot, and I know in those moments that I can do anything. You are so gentle, and kind. The way you place us ahead of yourself astonishes me, for I am used to being around the selfish, heartless dregs of our galactic society. It is good not only to see someone who knows how to care and love, it is amazing that I might be a recipient of that caring. You are enthusiastic and expressive, which I admit amuses me greatly. I know I'm not alone in that regard - I don't think I have ever heard my Master laugh as much as he has since you entered our lives.

I re-read that portion to make sure I had translated every word right, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. No one had ever said such lovely things to me, not even my friends. I didn't know how profoundly I was affecting the lives of these Jedi, apart from what Qui-Gon had said on my birthday. Too often I feared I was diverting them from the Jedi lifestyle, corrupting them. Yet, what Obi-Wan wrote showed me I had no reason to be afraid. Taking a deep breath to calm my excited heart, I read on.

And it is good, to laugh...to feel...to touch. The memory of your kiss stays with me, even when I am thinking about duty, necessity, and the Force. I hope that I may know it again, and soon, though not while you are hurt. Rest, love, and I will be here. I will take you into my arms, feel your breath on my face... I realized I was breathing fast, and paused to calm myself down before going on. ...and the softness of your kiss. It is truly amazing that I can be so close to you. I will have to remember your advice, and not take it for granted. You will always be precious to me, come what may.

It ended there. I closed my eyes, feeling the heat of my blush radiating from my face. I didn't expect such glowing praise, such poetry, from young Jedi Obi-Wan. I had a new appreciation for what he was going through - what I was putting him through! I understood, then, that I had better advance with great caution. Neither one of them deserved to have their heart broken, though neither were so fragile that they could not recover from it. I had faith that they would be just fine without me, and from time to time still fretted that they might be better off, as I was distracting them from their pursuit of the Force. Yet, Obi-Wan's passage in my journal showed a different side, a more human one at that. These Jedi felt deeply and strongly, and I couldn't be so casual and reckless with those feelings. They deserved better than I had been giving them. They didn't deserve to wait so patiently while I waffled, and played, and flirted. But could I make a choice? No, a thousand times no, I mentally grumbled. The sweet words flowing across the page in straight, cool Aurebesh pushed my feelings for Obi-Wan firmly into highest gear, and I knew that if I had had a preference before, it no longer existed. Both occupied the same space in my heart, simultaneously. All doubt was removed, leaving me this conclusion and a sinking feeling of being cursed by too much of a good thing. Brushing my eyes over some of the key words one more time, fixing them in my mind, I closed the journal, set it on the dresser, and clicked off the light.

Awaking gradually through a haze, I rolled onto my back and gave a start when I saw someone standing in the doorway to my quarters. It was only Qui-Gon, but his unexpected presence gave me a momentary heart attack. "I'm sorry," he chuckled gently as I flopped back into my pillow and covered my face with my hands. "I didn't mean to startle you. Good morning."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, snuggling further down into my blankets in embarrassment.

"I was concerned," he answered, stepping into my room so the door could close. "You didn't come to breakfast this morning, I wanted to make sure you were all right. It looks like you were merely sleeping."

I made a face at him. "What time is it?"

"It's almost noon."

"Oh, whoops." I flipped back the blanket and stiffly worked my way to a sitting position, waving a hand at Qui-Gon. "I'm all right, don't worry about me. Give me a few minutes, I'll be along sooner or later."

Qui-Gon smiled peacefully and nodded, backing out of the room and leaving me alone. I tottered around getting ready to be seen in public, finding myself cramped and stiff with limited range of movement. I wrapped a simple tunic around myself and tied on a sash, remembering that later in the afternoon I had another session scheduled with the healers and would need to be dressed simply. Before I could get out the door, though, I sidetracked myself looking for a good place to hang my painting, happy to find tacks still in the wall over my bed from the previous resident, Knight Del Foren. One of them was positioned just right to give the illusion of having a small window in the middle of the wall against which the bed was shoved. I had dawdled enough, though, and finally dragged myself clumsily up the hallway to the other quarters.

I was greeted at the door by Obi-Wan motioning me to be quiet - Master Qui-Gon was in the middle of a conversation at the communicator. I silently prowled into the room and up to the apprentice, who gave me a smile and steered me away from Qui-Gon with a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Good morning, what's left of it," he teased. "Did you sleep well?"

"Apparently," I flippantly answered, easing my arm around his waist for a hug. He looked to be feeling much better himself.

"We've already been and returned," Obi-Wan continued, speaking in a cautious murmur. "And there's more to be done today. You're just in time to eat."

"Good, 'cause I'm starving," I enthused, letting him guide me to a soft seat. "Who's Master talking to?"

"Master Eeth Koth. I'm trying not to eavesdrop, but it sounds serious."

I glanced over my shoulder at the corner of the sitting room near the door, where the communicator console lay. Though his voice was low and gruff, it was impossible not to hear what Qui-Gon was saying. "You have my word, there was no other way."

I looked back at Obi-Wan. "He's not being chastened about how we had to get ourselves back to Coruscant, is he?"

"There's no reason he should be," the Padawan said. "The return flight cost us nothing."

I grinned. "Figured that out, did you?" He smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "How long did it take you?"

"I had my doubts early on, but...I wasn't certain until we landed and I saw the fleet headings in the maintenance bay," Obi-Wan admitted.

"Let that be a lesson to you," I chided him, wagging a finger.

A lull in our small talk brought the Master's business sharply into focus, as he raised his voice just enough that one couldn't be in the same room and not eavesdrop. "She was in no more danger than she would be here on Coruscant."

I shot Obi-Wan an "uh, oh" sort of look. Master Eeth's voice came through clear enough to hear the firmness, the disapproval. "Her injuries from the crash were serious, Qui-Gon. You don't consider that danger?"

"The Darkstar would have been attacked and shot down regardless of whether we were on board, Stacey's presence there had no effect on the outcome," Qui-Gon argued. "You can't possibly object to her accompanying us on this mission based on the crash alone."

"But if she weren't with you, she would not have been injured in that crash. That is all I am saying. I don't like that she was in harm's way."

"Weighed against the good she did us on the mission, I am persuaded it was worth it," Qui-Gon insisted. "We had no way of knowing what would happen. Crashes between ships happen on this planet daily, who's to say she won't be injured running an errand outside the Temple?"

"A hypothetical, Master," Eeth protested.

"That we would be in danger on Daramin was also hypothetical, until it happened." I beamed proudly when I heard that, thinking good one, Master.

"What, then, are you saying?" Master Koth went on. "You would place your ward in danger again, trusting the whims of fate against better judgment?"

"Master Eeth," Qui-Gon said patiently, "how well do you know me? You know that I don't believe in accidents or coincidence - nothing can happen until it happens. It is useless to be afraid of possibilities when there are greater needs at hand. Stacey was a great asset to us on the mission, and no danger was posed to her other than that which we couldn't control. I would do it again, yes. Without hesitation."

There was a long pause. I glanced at Obi-Wan, whose eyes remained steady and calm as he listened to the conversation. Finally, Eeth could be heard sighing. "It is true that you had no control over the situation with the Darkstar. But let that be a warning to you - any time your ward leaves the Jedi Temple, her protection is uncertain. Remember it the next time you have an idea about letting her accompany you on missions." Another pause, followed by a few short words of dismissal, and the transmission ended.

Qui-Gon sat there for a moment, his back to us so I couldn't tell what he was thinking about. He then turned and got up to join us, his face blank. "I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said as he stopped before me. "Master Koth was concerned about your wellbeing."

"That's nice of him," I conceded, "but I don't hold anything against you. You know that. No one's to blame for what happened to me in the crash - or to you two, for that matter. You got banged up too." I slapped my hands to my knees. "Consider it over and done with. Now, did I hear rightly that there's food around here somewhere?"

Smiling, Qui-Gon extended a hand to help me up. "Yes. We'll share a meal before Obi-Wan and I have to leave, we have more work to do. Your session is this afternoon?"

They both herded me to the table like mother hens, and I let them. "Yeah, but I have a few hours. I guess I'll just sit around here while you two work - I've got lots of catching up to do with my journal."

The Master went to get lunch, leaving me at the table with Obi-Wan. Speaking of my journal brought up a reminder of last night, and I placed a hand on Obi-Wan's as he chivalrously pushed in my chair. "Hey," I whispered to trap him. "I finally got to read what you wrote in my journal."

The Padawan's cheeks went red immediately. "Did you?" he wondered as casually as he could.

I smiled adoringly to put him at ease. "It was...beautiful. Thank you. You...you're precious to me, too."

Qui-Gon was about to return, so Obi-Wan only gave me a glowing smile in response and trailed a hand through my hair as he backed away. "That must mean that you translated it correctly." Mischief sparkled in his eyes as he retreated out of reach.

After lunch I was left to my own devices for three or four hours, until it was time to go back up to the infirmary and my second session with the healers. I assured Qui-Gon I knew how to get there, as my time in the Temple while they were away on missions had never been wasted. While a lifetime lived there would never uncover every corner, nook, and cranny, I was familiar with a good bit of the gigantic complex already. Though she wasn't on duty, Master Dohemaka met me at the entrance to the infirmary and personally undertook the session, extending the healing power of the Force into the lingering pain and stresses all over my body. She expressed concern that she couldn't tell directly whether it was working, as she could with nearly every other patient, Force-sensitive or not, but I assured her that I felt wonderful and was surprised that I could feel so able and spry so quickly after a crash. Still, she sent me away with a few words of warning and advice as to how quickly I could resume all normal activities, which I promised to obey even though deep down I had a feeling that given my history, I'd violate orders sooner or later. I always did.

Once back on my floor, I started for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's quarters without thinking when I saw someone come up the adjoining corridor that led to my own room. I slowed my pace so as not to run into the person, wondering if I should make pretense of going to my quarters in case it was someone lurking to catch me bothering the Master and Padawan. As I did, Master Kinse came around the corner and halted with a small exclamation of surprise when he saw me. Both of us smiled at each other upon recognition. "I had just gone to see you," he said politely. "How are you, little one?"

Master Kinse always called me that, perhaps more for the age difference than height. He was shorter than Qui-Gon, and much thicker around, but at least his age if not older. I intuitively knew he wasn't human, despite similar characteristics - the whiskers on his saggy face were not so much facial hair as actual sensory features. "I'm all right, more or less, Master," I answered with equal politeness. "I just came back from the healers, in fact. Though, I don't think I'll feel the full effects until I wake up tomorrow morning."

"Healing does take time, despite our abilities," the venerated Master offered. "Master Qui-Gon told me what happened, but I thought it would be good to see you myself, and know that you are well. You certainly look well."

I shyly brushed back a stray wisp of hair, unconsciously feeling for the cut on my temple. "Thanks. I appreciate that, very much."

Master Kinse clasped his hands before him, letting his over-long tunic sleeves drape over them. "Have you been given any orders or advice for proceeding?"

"Oh, yes - for the most part I'm cleared, but Master Dohemaka said I should give it at least two or three weeks before resuming any exercise. Anything strenuous of that type."

"Good," Master Kinse said to my surprise. "That works out very well. I did have something of import to discuss with you, before I even heard of your injuries. I have been asked to provide security and protection in the capitol during the holiday celebrations to come, which will render me unavailable to teach you for a few weeks. I don't mean to make light of your misfortune, but the timing works well for me."

I chuckled at that. "Yeah, I know. No offense taken - that does work out just right. Okay, Master, I can handle that."

"I will contact you after the Fête, when I have returned to my usual duties," he went on, bowing slightly. "By then you should be fully healed and, I'm sure, eager to resume your studies."

I perked up, remembering the most important thing I had wanted to tell him. "Oo! Master, while on Daramin I got a Be'a'lai fighting stick," I said excitedly. "Master Qui-Gon thought it might be useful for learning staff-fighting techniques."

"Is that so?" Master Kinse's moss-green eyes lit with a pleased smile. "Then, I will have to take a look when we resume. It sounds very interesting."

I bowed reverently, and he nodded his acceptance before going around me and disappearing up the corridor toward the lifts. I waited until I was sure he was gone before continuing, not to my quarters but to the place where I spent most of my time. The hum of the door seemed loud in the stillness - my companions were not back yet. I hunted for them first, to be sure, and then checked the time. There wasn't much I could do, but I did have my comlink on me; I took it out and stared at it for a long time, waffling over whether to contact Master Qui-Gon. I didn't want to break in during an important meeting, but it was getting to be time for my stomach to start growling very loudly and I wanted to make sure I wouldn't have to soothe its protests alone. After a few minutes, I closed my eyes, prayed the signal wouldn't intrude on some vital session with the Jedi Council, and pressed the transmitter. Receiving a very placid, "yes?" I began, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, Master."

"No, not at all," Qui-Gon said smoothly. "What is it? Is your session with the healers over?"

"Yeah, I just got back. It's nothing, really, I just wondered where you were and if you'd be back for dinner anytime soon."

There was a brief pause. "Obi-Wan and I are in the middle of something," he returned, "but it will not take much longer. Go ahead and start dinner if you wish, unless you had the commissary in mind."

"Not especially. All right, then. I'll be here when you finish whatever you need to do. Don't hurry on my account." No further comment came across, so I closed the channel and turned to the small kitchenette in quarters. What sort of trouble can I get into this evening?

As I began to root around for ideas and utensils, my mind wrapped around the vague explanation I had just gotten. 'Obi-Wan and I are in the middle of something'...what are they up to? Can't be a meeting. I stared indecisively into the refrigeration unit. Hmm. I wonder if they're having another talk about balance, like Qui-Gon wanted to do when we were in Takra. Closing my eyes, I could almost see the darkened room and the shadows on my wall again. Things are different now. Obi-Wan's gotten what he wanted. Not that that clears up the issue, it probably actually makes it more complicated. I huffed a sigh and dug in a cabinet for the right pot. What in the world are we going to do? They're waiting for me to make a decision, and I'm probably never going to make it. This doesn't look good at all.

I got no answers to my wonderings when the Jedi returned, they said nothing about where they had been all afternoon. I let it go for now, knowing that the less they wanted to say about it, the more likely I wouldn't have to deal with it. They were still readjusting to the time on Coruscant as much as I was, so we all vanished to our rooms fairly early in the evening, having pretty much nothing else to do. I had nearly caught up on my journal, but was in no hurry, since plenty of days with no schedule or agenda lay ahead of me still. Or so I thought.

I was gently jostled awake by the Master, who at least had the courtesy to not turn my light on this time. He crouched beside the bed, shaking me until I made noise to indicate he had succeeded. "You need to get up," he insisted to counter my wordless protests.

"I'm starting to regret giving you unfettered access to my room," I grumbled under my breath.

Qui-Gon returned to the door and flicked on the light, making me flinch. "Come, I need you up," he repeated. "You have a half hour to eat and get ready to leave the Temple."

That brought me fully awake. I sat up and blinked at him. "What? Where are we going?"

The door swished open behind him. "The Senate."

Qui-Gon's deadlines were never malleable. In almost exactly half an hour, I followed at the heels of the Master and Padawan down to the hangar, where a regular old air taxi waited to ferry us across the government district to the Senate dome. Though excited for a new adventure, I conscientiously dressed in the most austere tunic I had and conducted myself as a representative of the Jedi Order, which in a sense I was every time I left the Temple. Over breakfast I found out that the visit was about Daramin, so I grabbed my second notebook - and the original copy of the report, which I'd stashed inside the cover - and came along to assist in the event my translation was unclear. I doubted I would have to actually do anything, but joining the Jedi on their errand made me feel important. We traded very few words during the trip, as I was more interested in staring over the side of the taxi at the incredible view, and the two Jedi sat quietly patient, needing to say nothing to prepare for the visit.

I had seen the magnificent mushroom-shaped Senate Dome before, but this was the first time I got to walk up the concourse and enter it, and I likely embarrassed the Jedi to no end with my rubber-necking and gasping in awe. Two kilometers wide and something like a kilometer tall, the dome gleamed pewter in the mid-morning sun as we passed beneath its shade and entered through one of hundreds of sets of public doors under the watchful eye of blue-robed Coruscant Guards. They towered over me, but being used to Master Qui-Gon's height, I realized they weren't that tall after all. The silly crest made them appear more imposing, as did the very deadly-looking blaster rifles on their shoulders. Once inside the cool, sterile, artificially-lit corridors of the Senate, I snapped to attention and tried to keep my tourism to a minimum. Thousands upon thousands of beings of all shapes and sizes thronged the public walkways and atriums, the majority there to work, so I didn't want to be mistaken for one of the handful of gawking visitors there only to see the famed center of the Republic's grand democratic government. Walking in the company of two Jedi helped. Even though they looked plain and scruffy next to the fabulously-dressed population of the Senate offices, no one mistook them for peasants here. The brown robes swept a clear path through the crowds, as passersby deliberately paused or shrank away from them. Though there was plenty to look at, I did my best to keep my eyes forward, if for no other reason than not getting separated from Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, even if a tiny thread of the Force kept us bound to each other. I could feel it in the back of my mind, a calm note amid the chaos that drew me subconsciously after the Jedi Master in which it originated. He navigated swiftly through the corridors that curved around the central debate chamber, layer upon layer of them both vertically and horizontally that passed between offices and could lead one around and around in circles for days. After a short time I mustered my abilities and gave him a mental growl, to which he glanced so slightly over his shoulder that all I could see was one gray eye. I can't walk this fast, I seethed at him, hoping he'd at least get the impression that it hurt to keep up with his long-legged pace. Waiting for a lift gave us a convenient place to pause. "I'm sorry," Qui-Gon said to me under his breath. "I didn't mean to tax you. Are you all right?"

"Just walk slower," I pleaded. "I'm not one-hundred percent yet, you know. Ninety, maybe."

"Very well." A pleasing tone rang out from the lift to indicate that it had arrived, and we stepped back out of the way of the cluster of jittery Quarren that emerged before slipping inside. The office to which we needed to go was not very high up, but a good distance around the side of the Dome, and we could take the lift laterally for most of the way. I found that incredibly cool. "We also have clearance to go directly to the inner office of this senator," the Master informed us. "He set up this meeting this morning."

"A low floor means a senator or a system of fairly little importance," Obi-Wan noted. "The larger offices are higher up."

Qui-Gon had no response to that, so we drifted the rest of the way in silence. The corridor into which we were dumped contained less traffic than the main floor, but still enough to make me want to guard myself and keep close to my companions. True to his word, Qui-Gon watched his pace and occasionally glanced back at me to make sure I was holding up well, and I answered with thankful smiles. At last we reached the door he wanted, and I stood behind Obi-Wan to wait to be summoned. After so long in their galaxy I prided myself on not freaking out every time I met a strange new species, but I couldn't help the tiny blip of surprise that raised my eyebrows when the office door was opened by a tiny person with a shock of pink hair. "You must be the Jedi!" she squealed in a tinny voice, apparently excited to see us. "Please, come in. The senator is expecting you."

Qui-Gon bowed and followed her in; I secretly suspected he didn't say anything because he was holding in a chuckle. The person, probably an aide, couldn't have been more than three feet tall. She fairly bounced ahead of us into the office, motioning for us to wait while she let the senator know we were here. Meanwhile, I glanced around the room, intensely curious. The desks, control consoles, even the decorations were set low enough that I guessed all the people from the system represented were short, though the furniture itself didn't seem too diminutive. I could hear a low murmur as of voices further back in the office, behind walls, where the senator's staff busied themselves. After a second the pink-haired girl returned and waved for us to go with her, beaming happily. We passed through a central section of the office filled with staff, many of them of peculiar size and wild hair, except for the muscled men standing along the wall. They straightened at attention as we breezed past them - bodyguards, I realized. But with Jedi in the office, they did not need to stand guard. Almost the last room in the office, but for private chambers immediately behind, was a comfortably-furnished lounge, where our host awaited. Slightly taller than his staff - four feet, if that - and smoothly bald, he struck me as someone young and strong. Whatever they were, his people weren't midgets, their proportions were regular. He looked up at Qui-Gon with a firm, intelligent expression, unintimidated by size. His voice was gruff as he greeted us. "Master Jinn? I'm glad you could make it."

"Senator Ryu," Qui-Gon said in return, bowing. "This is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the archivist who accompanied us."

Oh, the archivist routine again? I thought to myself with a rueful smile.

Senator Ryu nodded to Obi-Wan and then extended a hand to me. "And your name is?"

"Stacey," I said with a grin, glad that someone cared. His hand was the same size as mine, and strong, as I shook it amicably.

"I'm sorry about the short notice," Ryu said, offering us a seat. I waited until Master and Padawan sat down before taking a chair out of the immediate center of the lounge. "I only just got the report myself, I want to thank you for having it transmitted to me right away when you landed." Master Qui-Gon inclined his head in acknowledgement. The senator didn't sit, but paced with his arms folded over his wiry chest. "But I have to find out why I just postponed the trip I had been planning to take to Daramin."

Qui-Gon's face twitched with interest. "I was not aware you had changed your plans, senator."

Ryu pursed his lips. His frustrated expression made me realize why I had the odd feeling that he wasn't a human - he didn't appear to have a nose. "I wasn't going to," he admitted, speaking very casually for a senator. "After this week we're in recess, I was going to use the time to make a nice long visit to Daramin, check things out, and then head to my home planet for the Fête. Then your report came, and I was ready to just go anyway, but there's too much in it I don't like. I'm not prepared anymore, I can't go to Daramin until some things are cleared up for me." He paused his steps and gave Qui-Gon a stern look. "Though, once this report gets out, the trip might be cancelled for good."

The Master sat forward, clasping his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. "I would be more than happy to answer any of your questions, senator. It was not our intention to play havoc with your schedule, I'm sorry you had to change it so quickly."

Ryu shrugged. "It's no big deal. I'm still going home for the Fête. What worries me, though, is that this might seriously hurt plans a lot bigger than that." He placed his hands on his hips and faced the Jedi Master squarely. "I gotta be honest with you, Master Jinn, Daramin is a lot more important than people think. I don't represent a very large sector, and my voice doesn't get heard around here. I was elected this last time around because no one else wanted to run. I'm just a regular guy, I don't belong in politics." He sighed shortly. "But I do know this: a lot of people keep one eye on Daramin. Those reports you Jedi send up every couple months get read, you know. Its resources have a lot of potential. If I represented Daramin, I could speak up about things like taxation and protecting trade routes and people would have to listen." He sighed again, almost grumbling. "But I don't think I want to represent them if they're going to pull stuff like they did with you."

"What disturbs you the most?" Qui-Gon wondered. "What made you decide to postpone your visit and causes you to rethink representing the system?"

Senator Ryu resumed pacing again, slowly. "Well, the pirates were the first problem," he said. "I consider safety of a system high on my priorities. The treaty violations are the other main problem. If they keep that up, Daramin will be nothing but a huge headache for me." He gave Qui-Gon a puzzled look. "One thing I didn't understand. The Be'a'lai - they said something about a new treaty?"

The Master frowned, seeming not to understand either. I remembered perfectly - it was one of my personal addendums to the report. "Just before we left," I said, "the chieftain suggested that if things got out of hand, the Be'a'lai would be willing to make a new treaty with the Republic themselves, apart from the Homeworld Alliance. They don't want to be identified with them."

"That's what I was afraid it said." Ryu looked at me, tapping his chin with a finger. Behind him, I could see vaguely approving smiles on the faces of the Jedi. "The Be'a'lai pulling out of the Homeworld Alliance treaties would be 'getting out of hand,' all right. I don't want to see that happen."

"What was the response from the planet when you backed out of the visit?" Qui-Gon pressed.

"They didn't seem too surprised," Ryu conceded, "although the official I talked to tried real hard to convince me it was all right, I could still come. He seemed nice enough, if a little enthusiastic."

"That would have been Trora," Obi-Wan noted to his Master.

"Yes. He must have been positively hysterical," Qui-Gon wryly said.

"I told him it just wasn't the right time," Ryu added. "With the holiday coming up and all. That calmed him down a lot. What does he have to do with...everything?"

"Trora is not directly connected to any of the problems on Daramin," the Master explained, "but he did allow things to happen and looked the other way. The problems primarily center with the current Executor, and the members of the Homeworld Alliance who hold positions of power among the Executor's Board. And I don't think they will easily change their ways."

"Well, if they want a sectorial representative speaking for them in the Senate, they will," Senator Ryu huffed. I liked him already, he was so down-to-earth and gritty. I wondered what he did on his homeworld before being thrown into the political arena. "I don't know. Maybe it's more than one man can do, but Daramin is too important for me to give up on just yet."

"Senator," Obi-Wan broke in, sensing a convenient pause, "it seems to me that of all those involved, you have the most power."

Ryu raised a dark eyebrow. "Come again?"

"The Daramindi are almost desperate for representation," the Padawan continued. "Their only other choice is to push for individual representation, which will be impossible for them to get now that their hostility against the Jedi is being made public. Your sector is their last hope, and Master Qui-Gon and I saw for ourselves that they're willing to do almost anything to gain your good graces."

"Really..." the diminutive senator mused.

"You wield great power in their eyes. It could be used to effect positive change on Daramin."

Ryu shook his bald head. "I don't know. It might be harder than it seems."

"Just remember to keep your focus," Qui-Gon advised. "If the Homeworld Alliance knows how great an asset they would be to your office, they'll make things difficult. They must continue to think you have the advantage over them."

Ryu nodded firmly. "Will you be available if I need more information, or are you going on another mission?"

"We are at your disposal," Qui-Gon offered. "The Jedi Council of Reconciliation has need of us as well, concerning Daramin and the treaties, so we have been placed on retainer for the time being. Call on us anytime."

"Thanks, Master Jinn," Ryu said, his relief sincere. "I suppose I'm going to have to go there after all, and see it for myself, before I start making a nuisance of myself in committee. But I know there's people who want to talk about your report, and whether Daramin deserves representation," he said in a warning tone, "so I may need you more than you think. I won't ask too much, I promise. I know you have codes and such."

Qui-Gon smiled kindly and bowed his head briefly. "The Jedi are at the service of the Republic, Senator Ryu. I'm sure nothing you ask of us will be beyond our means."

The senator smiled back at all of us, even me. "Don't worry. I won't bother you again until after the holiday. Even Jedi have got to celebrate, huh? Happy New Year, by the way." He chuckled. "It's going to be an interesting one, that's for sure."

On to part 58

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