| "Padawan, concentrate." "Yes, master." "Keep your mind focused on what is going on around you." "Yes, master." Pause. "And keep your eyes off my hair." "Yes, master." Obi-Wan tried not to giggle. Qui-Gon sighed. No doubt this was some immature revenge for what he had done to Obi-Wan's shorn locks. "You've seen my hair many times before." He pointed out with patience born from years of reasoning with teenagers. "What's so special about it now?" "It's short, master!" grinned Obi-Wan. "So?" "It just looks kind of strange. You know…the way it comes to just above your shoulders and not to your back. It takes a little getting used to." Qui-Gon raised a single eyebrow at the boy. He was glad that Obi-Wan was feeling so relaxed in the face of what they both knew could be an extremely tricky mission. Certainly Yoda's comments to him had done little to instill confidence. Still, it wouldn't do to underestimate the danger they might well be facing and perhaps now would be as good a time as any to try and remind his padawan of the intricacies involved. "My hair is just one of many things you will have to think of as nothing out of the ordinary, young Jacen." He emphasized his new identity and was rewarded by a slightly brooding expression, which Qui-Gon took to be displeasure. "I don't want any undiscipline. You really will have to follow my lead this time, no margin for doing what you think is best." "Yes master, er…uncle." Obi-Wan nodded unenthusiastically. "Good." Qui-Gon softened his tone. "I trust you, padawan. But I can't stress the importance of this. Lives may be at stake here." "They usually are, uncle." Obi-Wan said quietly. "It's just…" "What?" Jinn looked at him intensely, trying to find the source of his discomfort. Obi-Wan shuffled from foot to foot, trying to stall. "I really don't like the idea of being in a brothel, master." He gulped slowly. Qui-Gon's eyes flickered with a small trace of amusement as he caught the uncomfortable flush of scarlet on Obi-Wan's face again. "I would sit up and take notice, padawan. Be mindful. Pay attention to your surroundings because I assure you it's the nearest to a brothel you will get ever again." Obi-Wan looked up at him, not knowing whether to be relieved or dismayed. "What, never?" he frowned. "Not if I can help it. One day you might meet a nice girl but until then…" "When would that be, master?" "When I say your old enough. When you are thirty or so." "Thirty, uncle-master?" "Or when you are a knight. Whichever happens first." Qui-Gon turned away to hide his smile. "Close your mouth padawan, there's a freighter landing." Obi-Wan snapped his mouth closed audibly, and felt behind his head with his hands. "No girl would ever want to look at me like this anyway." He grumbled. "That's the idea." Qui-Gon replied. "Is that why you've cut your hair, master?" Obi-Wan asked innocently. "No, I've cut my hair because…because…it needed cut. Now, I want to go over the facts again until I am sure you have them up here." He tapped lightly on the boy's head with one finger. Obi-Wan sighed, but when he saw Qui-Gon preparing to fix him with 'that look' he quickly gave him his full attention. "Thank you," Qui-Gon remarked dryly, "Now we will be receiving a welcome message in the next few hours telling us that we have permission to proceed. If we stick to our false backgrounds we won't go wrong. They will then grant us protection until we get to the rendezvous ship. From then on we will…" Qui-Gon looked towards the screen. The face that filled it was not what he had been expecting at all. "Master Ashdal?" he frowned. "It IS Master Ashdal." Blinked Obi-Wan in surprise. "It is, isn't it?" Qui-Gon was feeling almost as taken aback as his padawan at the sight of his close friend Vernice Ashdal staring back at him in holo form. He could well understand Obi-Wan's astonishment at the image before him, for the face was unmistakably that of Vernice but the style was most definitely not her usual image, with ribbons of various colors and intricate braids woven through her hair. Her eyes were heavily shrouded in lilac shade whilst her lips were painted in an unsubtle scarlet, shiny and glossy like Qui-Gon had never seen before. Not even in private. "I'll make this quick, Qui-Gon." Vernice said under her breath. "The gentlemen who were supposed to contact you are going to wake up in five minutes as if nothing has happened to them." She nodded over her shoulder. "You mind tricked them?" Jinn asked in a low voice. "I've had a lot of practice in that over the last week, believe me." Vernice gritted her teeth. "Saved my neck…not to mention a few other things. It would seem our paths and missions have crossed. I got a message from the council last week informing me you would be heading out this way under an assumed name. I managed to sneak a quick look at the lists and saw you were due to arrive today. This espionage stuff is NOT to my taste, let me tell you. Anyway, my brief was to check out data on a 'gentleman' by the name of Merdan. We think that many of the pirate activities and disappearances can be traced back to this hellhole. Best way to find that out was up close, so I had to allow myself to get captured." "And?" "Whoooooo," Vernice let out a breath of air that didn't seem to dispel any of the tension she was feeling, "it's a real hotbed of vice. They've got gambling tables, more illegal substances then you could count, all nesting under the accommodating wing of the brothel that Merdan runs. Sleaze doesn't even begin to come close to describing it. I've tried to find out what I could for you about the envoy woman but the other women aren't saying anything and if she was here she certainly isn't now. I'm afraid I'll have to leave that one in your capable hands." She wracked her brains as if searching for additional information that might be of use. "Oh, yes. If you want to keep a low profile for the first few days say that you both dislike long distance space flight and that you're feeling queasy. Say you'll keep to yourselves for a while. Or at least Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon managed to read a lot into the look she gave him, one that quite clearly said 'Why did you bring him? Are you crazy?' He was beginning to wonder if he was. "I've got to go. They've got most of the women outside on some kind of work detail, doing what I don't know." She pulled a distasteful face. "I've been assigned kitchen duties and I should be there right now. I'm telling you, this brothel doubles up as a prison camp. Try and act normal when you see me. Don't give any signs of recognition or we are both up to our ears in shlent, got that?" Qui-Gon rolled his eyes impatiently and Vernice smiled. It wasn't an expression she'd used much over the last week and it felt good to use the corners of her mouth in an upturned expression for a change. "How's my padawan?" Vernice asked Obi-Wan. "Tanni's fine. He says he's hungry." The padawan replied. "Actually, he says he's VERY hungry and that he's going to have to eat his tail if nobody feeds him soon." "That's my boy." Vernice snickered. "I'm not sure the infirmary serves whole Nerf's in jelly. And this place is a nightmare. I'm a vegetarian! I've been living off Gourals the last six days!" She looked back over her shoulder and then crouched over the holotransmitter in some urgency. "They're beginning to stir. I'm going now. I'll no doubt run into you soon enough." She nodded briskly to both of them. "Oh, and boys?" "What?" Jinn asked hesitantly. "Like the hair." She threw them a wink before abruptly cutting off the transmission, leaving Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan staring at empty space. Qui-Gon stood for a while, thinking of Vernice's words of warning. In some ways it felt good to have another person there for back up, and it was evident from what she'd said that her captors had no idea she was a jedi. If she could do so then surely it should be similarly easy for Obi-Wan and himself to do the same? Never take anything for granted. his inner voice told him. It's the surest way of ending up surprised and dead. Obi-Wan found himself wondering just how horrendous the conditions were where they were heading. He had no doubt that both he and his master would be pampered and treated as welcome (and paying) guests, whilst the likes of Vernice would be forced to cook and clean and… He realized he was blushing again. He could think of several of his friends, notably Jay Abran, who would be delighted to go look round a brothel. The whole thing just made him uneasy. Always at the back of his mind he could feel the misery, sense the frustration, and hear the crying whenever the name of the planet was mentioned. Obi-Wan was really beginning to hate the word Nargotria. The holo transmitter began to flare into life once more, and Obi-Wan composed his face and stood one step behind his master, listening as their instructions were relayed to them. There was no going back now. *********** Vernice had been chopping and dicing and re-heating and cooling and doing everything she could think of in a cooking capacity barring physically laying the eggs and growing the vegetables. Handling the bits of meat was a chore. She disliked the task intensely and it was something she hadn't had to do since Tanni had been old enough to cook his own food. To be perfectly honest Tanni preferred his food raw any way. She was on her own right now but she wasn't terribly unhappy about that. It gave her time to think. As she sat watching the frozen Thressan steaks defrost, Vernice reflected on her time on Nargotria so far. A pleasant experience it was not. She'd found tampering with the minds of the guards and the guests extremely easy although her own conscience was reluctant to throw her own powers around as frequently and liberally as she had. At first the idea had been uncomfortable but when she'd saw the character of the men she was dealing with her qualms had soon reduced to a manageable level. Most of the other women were either to scared or two wise to answer any questions she put to them and in the end Vernice thought it better not to ask at all, lest her inquisitiveness get reported back to Merdan. She'd decided to get to know the females in the place a little better before she decided who exactly was the most reliable to probe for data. Merdan had both impressed and made her skin creep. She could see why the women were scared of him, yet underneath that layer of fear was a healthy amount of respect. He was despicable and without honor, yet he had his own strict code that often went against his associates in favor of his workers. He used women but he didn't hate them like so many of the guards that patrolled the complex. He was ruthless yet smart, with almost animal cunning. He was handsome yet his face was devoid of compassion. The man disgusted her. Still, at least she knew where she stood. Don't cross him. It's that simple. Vernice sighed to herself as she looked around for a meat knife. And that's all these women are trying to do. Stay alive at all costs. She'd been so busy trying to get everything ready for the steaks that she hadn't so much as realized another person had slipped inside the room. Her force sense pricked at her and she turned round in a hurry to see who was stood behind her. Vernice was so surprised that she very nearly dropped her knife. A girl. A little girl who looked surely no older than seven years of age…what was she doing here? Amidst all the insanity of this place something so seemingly normal as a child appeared to jar somewhat with Vernice's sense of reality. It felt completely unbelievable to her. "You're new here, aren't you?" The girl started to tie her hair back with noticeably shaking hands. "I saw you once from the other side of the courtyard when it was my turn to go stretch my legs." Vernice studied the deathly pale face for a moment before voicing her confusion. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice a thin whisper. "I stay here." "What, with one of the guards?" Vernice frowned, wondering if perhaps her family worked for Merdan. "No." the Corellian voice replied. "With the other women." She caught the horrified look on the newcomer's face and almost felt tempted to smile. Well, it was still good to be able to shock people after all this time. Her hands struggled to tie the apron at the back, fingers shaking and fumbling. Never had she been so glad to get sent back to the kitchens. Not wanting to dwell overly-much on the images that still plagued her mind from the digging detail, Jemmiah gave up the effort of tying the threads in a perfect bow and just settled for loose knots instead. "I work here." She answered the unspoken question. "I'm the dogsbody. I serve breakfasts and the clean laundry and prepare the food." "But that's all?" Vernice breathed. The girl faced her with overly large eyes. "Could you pass me the chopping board?" Still feeling somewhat stunned, Vernice did as she was asked, finding it difficult to take in. "How did you end up here?" the master asked eventually, wondering if there was some family somewhere looking for the girl. "I came here with my mother. The ship crashed." The girl said matter of factly. "I've been here for five years now." "So your mother's here too?" Vernice almost sighed in relief, feeling less alarmed than before. "Kind of." The girl selected an onion for chopping and placed it on the board. "She's dead." "I am sorry." Vernice stammered awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. "Yeah, me as well." The girl focused intensely on the vegetable on the board. "There are a lot of dead people here, as you'll find out. Thing is the dead won't stay dead. That's why they are out there now." Vernice stared sharply at her, watching as the hands appeared to shake even more violently. "What do you mean?" "They're all out digging." The girl put down the knife, willing to compose herself. "I was out there too. Merdan went out to check on what was going on. When he saw I was there he sent me back to help you." She gazed up at Vernice. "I like your hair, by the way." The words recalled Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan momentarily to her mind and Vernice was now left wondering what exactly they were going to make of this cruelty and madness when they first arrived. It might well be beyond Obi-Wan's scope to understand the scale of the wickedness that went on in this place, but Qui-Gon felt things very deeply and she was sure it would affect him. She could only hope they both played their parts well. "Thank you." Vernice mumbled. "Why are they digging?" "To get rid of the bodies." The girl continued. "Would you like a drink of water? I'm going to get one for myself." "Thanks." Nodded Vernice, feeling suddenly very dry mouthed. "But what bodies?" The girl placed a mug underneath the water dispenser and filled it half full, returning it to Vernice. "Here you go..." she held the container out, "I'm sorry but I don't know your name." "Vernice." The jedi managed to say. "I'm Jemmiah." The girl nodded. "You'll have met the others by now. They're nice people, most of the time. I mean, we all have bad days." "Yes," Vernice agreed, determined to get to the bottom of the matter, "but what was this about bodies?" "Merdan needs the land. He's going to build on it. So he has to get rid of the people he'd had buried under the ground." Jemmiah picked up her own mug and took a drink out of it. "People who got sick and…died. People who didn't like him. People who were unfortunate. There's quite a lot of them." Jemmy said quietly. Vernice took a few steps over to the girl, causing the child to jump back in alarm. "It's okay, I just wondered if you could tell me something." Vernice reached out with the force to try to quieten the girl's sense of panic. "I had a…" she thought quickly, "friend who I think came here…I was looking for her." "That's when they picked you up?" Jemmy made a sympathetic face. "That's crummy luck." "She doesn't seem to be here though." Vernice continued. "Well, that's good then." Jemmy replied. "Maybe she's okay somewhere." "I'm sure I'd have heard from her if she was okay. I was really worried for her. Perhaps if I told you a bit about her you could tell me if you knew of her?" "I'm not supposed to talk names." Jemmiah shook her head. "Please?" Vernice begged. "I could get into trouble if I said anything." Jemmy answered sadly. "I just keep my head down and do as I'm told. I'm really sorry." She caught the disappointment in Vernice's eyes, as well as the reluctant acceptance that went with it. "If you don't mind," Jemmy flexed her fingers and found that her hands had stopped shaking, "I'd better chop these vegetables. I'm sorry about your friend. I hope she turns up safe. But I just want to keep out of trouble." The big copper eyes turned to the jedi. "And if you want to stay alive you'd better be careful what you say. Walls have ears in this place, and they all belong to Merdan." ***************** Qui-Gon was having great difficulty in keeping up his new identity. If the man who had met both himself and his padawan after their ship had been escorted to the planet's surface was indicative of the type of person he was likely to be dealing with, he wasn't certain this was a mission he would ever recall with any great fondness. Even before the ship had come down some two miles or so from the settlement Qui-Gon had experienced a real sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Vernice's words had not reassured him. Her efforts to extract helpful information in his quest to find Inga Carlton had not borne fruit and what was worse it seemed his own search might produce similarly barren results. He got the impression of great fear long before he had so much as a sight of the settlement. Looking beside him in the speeder he could see his plainly subdued padawan feeling much the same things. "Do you mind if I ask," Qui-Gon said in a dignified voice, "Why we were made to leave our ship so far behind?" "Standard precaution." Was the blunt reply he received from a rather pockmarked looking man of around fifty. "And why should such precautions be necessary?" continued Qui-Gon. "I am an honest business man." "If you were that honest you wouldn't be here." The man replied with a laugh that Qui-Gon decided he didn't care for one bit. "True." Replied Qui-Gon. The man took his eyes off where he was going and turned an evil grin on Obi-Wan. "What's wrong with the boy?" he sneered. "A bit quiet, isn't he?" "He's not very good with space travel. It has a tendency to make him ill." Qui-Gon answered. "That's partly why I decided to bring him here, to toughen him up. See a bit of the galaxy, if you get my meaning." "Oh, I get your meaning very well." The man winked at Obi-Wan. "Don't you worry my lad. Plenty on offer here to keep you entertained, for as long as your bank account holds up anyway." "Money's no problem." Qui-Gon strove hard to keep the disgust from off his face. "And if it ever became so I have enough in the way of business interests to gamble with." The man snorted. "Like a wager then, do you? You've come to the right place. We've got all kinds of facilities here. Gambling and gaming, wining and dining, whoring and sports you'd normally not see this side of an adults only holo channel, if you get my meaning." Unfortunately, Qui-Gon DID get his meaning and he could see that his padawan did too judging by the red face he was now sporting. "Talking of which, we cater for all tastes. We've got Twi'leks, Rodians, humanoids of all races…you name it we've got it. All ages too. We might be able to fix your boy up with something younger, eh?" he gave Obi-Wan a smack on the arm that made Qui-Gon work extra hard not to throw the man out of the speeder with utter disgust. "Thank you." Qui-Gon managed to say somehow. "Don't thank me. I just work here." "And why do you work here?" Qui-Gon decided to ask, wondering what sort of inducement would make somebody strand themselves on a miserable backwater planet such as this. "I like the perks of the job. And when you're a wanted man you find it very easy to make those sort of choices." The man snickered. He's actually proud of it,Qui-Gon stifled his abhorrence at the thought of what this man represented. I can't believe that anyone could show such delight in their crimes. He'd met criminals many times before. Sometimes they had just fallen into that way of life as a means of keeping alive. Others did it for the glory of having their names known throughout the galaxy. Then there were the despicable, loathsome creatures such as this man who did it to suit their own selfish ends - because they enjoyed it. Sadly, his type was all too prevalent in the galaxy. And this sector of the planet was no doubt full of similar minded individuals. "Uncle." Obi-Wan decided to speak. "What is it Jacen?" "Are we nearly there yet?" The man turned his eyes back on Obi-Wan. "Can't wait to get there and sample the goods, eh?" he leered. "As I said, my nephew is not feeling well. I think it would be better if he lay down for a bit - on his own." Qui-Gon emphasized that part before the man could come up with any further impolite suggestions or comments. "Whilst you have some time to yourself, eh?" The man's grin was really beginning to grate on Qui-Gon. "I'm sure you will find your stay most…pleasurable." The speeder continued on its way, skirting the mountainous areas and the sheer rock face that proudly rose up in the distance, black and ominous in it's jagged contours. As they continued the area began to flatten out and for the first time Qui-Gon could see his first view of the settlement that they would be staying in. "Thought you might like the scenic route." The man sniffed. "Kilmartra's cliffs are considered quite beautiful. As long as you're not on the top looking down." Obi-Wan's face went from flame covered indignity to blood-drained pallor in mere seconds and for a moment Qui-Gon thought the boy really was going to be sick. "K-Kilmartra?" he whispered. "That's right." The man continued. "Biggest hunk of rock in the area, very spectacular don't you think? But I wouldn't recommend getting too close. There are caves in there that people can easily get lost in. You could spend your lifetime searching for a way back out and not find it. And the North face is somewhat treacherous, so I am led to believe." He chortled although without any humor at all. This place is utterly without hope, Qui-Gon felt a heavy sorrow fall upon his shoulders, almost as if years of misery had built up layer upon layer with no way of release. It feels like an abyss of misery. It's everywhere. I felt it the moment our ship landed but it keeps getting stronger with every passing minute. This is going to be very difficult for us to control. He glanced back at his padawan. He's not pretending to look ill now. He feels it too. So much horror here. As the complex loomed larger in his sights Qui-Gon began to feel relief. The urge to simply hide away was almost overwhelming, although no doubt he would have to contact Vernice as soon as he was able. Deciding it was in his best interests to pay attention to the details of his surroundings Qui-Gon began to look about him. It was a much larger place than he was led to believe, built in a large dome-shape. The walls seemed to be made of a rather grainy natural looking stone, whilst the windows - the few he could see - were small and rectangular. Well, brothels were by their nature dark and dismal affairs and he supposed that this place had no reason to be any different. In stark contrast there stretched a large, golden cobbled courtyard that stood directly in the shadow of the building. It reminded him somewhat of a rather tacky and seedy version of the 'Birds Nest' hotel on Coruscant, one of the more upmarket (if you believed the price tag) places to stay in the capital. It was only as the speeder began to pass over the cobbles and down into a hidden bunker that Qui-Gon realized just how big an operation this Merdan character had going here. Whoever had organized this place had simply poured money into the venture to get it running on a scale like this… When the doors to the underground Bunker began to close behind him Obi-Wan turned round in alarm. "No need to panic. Just more precautions." The man replied, his voice suddenly business like. "Mr. Merdan would like to welcome you in person." "That's very gratifying." Qui-Gon began to wonder just how good the false ID's he and his padawan had attained were proving to be. Had Merdan smelled a rat already? From the little he'd heard about the man Qui-Gon knew he wasn't dealing with a fool, infact far from it. "Does Mr. Merdan greet all his guests with such civility?" "The very rich ones, yes." The man rumbled as the speeder slowed to a stop amongst a similar group of vehicles. "I'm to take you up to meet with him now. Follow me please." Qui-Gon wondered whether he should insist his padawan was sent to his room to lie down and rest, keeping him out of the way whilst he went to learn more about this Merdan character, but then he realized that it would probably be safer for Obi-Wan to be by his side than left alone in a brothel after only a few minutes of arriving in the place. He would have to meet Merdan sooner or later. Why not sooner? The quicker it happened the better idea he would have of what - and whom - he was dealing with. "Very well." Qui-Gon answered in an unconcerned tone of voice, indicating that Obi-Wan should stand by his side. "Come, Jacen." The man keyed open the door from the bunker which opened with a gentle whirring sound, and led into a scene of an altogether different kind. Plush carpets, velveteen curtains, tapestries, pillars with small sculptures on them, murals of the sort Qui-Gon would rather his padawan would not be looking at adorned what appeared to be a small walkway leading towards a reception area of some kind. The man in black scratched at his bad skin, and smirked at their amazed expressions. "Quite something, isn't it." He sneered. "Nothing like it in the galaxy." "I can see that." Qui-Gon replied, feeling the disgust return to him in large doses. Obi-Wan tried to keep his eyes away from the walls and the pictures. He had a feeling his master would expect him not too look…even though it was extremely difficult. The padawan settled for dragging his feet slightly in a show of awkwardness whilst fixing his eyes on the swirly pattern on the carpet. Their guide stopped to place a hand on a marble statue of a female in a rather semi-dressed reclining pose, rubbing the smooth stone in a caress. He turned to Qui-Gon and gave a mock-bow. "Welcome to Nargotria." |
| As Long As There Is Hope Part 6 By Jemmiah |