| As Long As There Is Hope Part 8 By Jemmiah |
| Qui-Gon had wasted no time in letting his 'choice' and 'specifications' be known to the guard at the reception area, making sure that he gave enough by the way of description to insure Vernice was the hapless individual he selected. It was imperative that he find out exactly what she had learned about the place in a way that would not draw suspicion to her. The call she'd gotten out to them had been extremely risky indeed. Mind tricking the guards in this place was nothing, but Merdan was obviously not a man to be tangled lightly with. That much had come across in the brief interview he and Obi-Wan had been granted. He'd never been a particularly judgmental man but the admiration he had for the unfortunate women who had to put up with the disgusting behavior from the 'clients' within the brothel had just gone up tenfold. How did they survive? How did they even want to survive the degradation, being treated as objects, mere things for men to paw around for their own selfish pleasures? He felt a twinge of anxiety for Vernice before reminding himself that she was like him - a jedi. Vernice was not an amateur in the espionage line. She knew what she was doing and that was why the council was letting her take these risks just as they were letting his padawan and himself do the same. Qui-Gon had already spent most of his time alone looking over the building, trying to get an idea of the layout and as much information he could detect just by using the force to gain an impression. Again, the overwhelming sadness threatened to engulf him. It was the feeling that struck him above all others. He could trace the emotions in the air, on the walls with his fingers…everywhere he went. At the back of his mind he could feel a tugging unease from his padawan and wondered if perhaps leaving him alone was such a good idea. He didn't want to think of the mischief and mayhem a fourteen year old boy could find himself in if he wasn't careful, especially one locked inside a brothel with all the temptations that lay therein. Obi-Wan was subject to the same hormonal instincts as every other male within the walls, more so perhaps because of the age he was. If they ever got back to Coruscant Qui-Gon was determined to keep an even closer eye on his apprentice than he already had done to date… Qui-Gon had been shown into a small but plush - and extremely tasteless - room decked out in similar reds, purples and decadent golds, awaiting the arrival of his 'acquisition'. Whilst he did so, Qui-Gon tried to think back over everything he had learned about the place thus far. From what had seen of the females in this place they were all scared, or at least very wary indeed. This was not particularly good from his point of view. Their natural wish to cause as little trouble for themselves combined with a healthy suspicion of strangers would make extracting information from them regarding the missing envoy a very difficult matter, so much so that he doubted they would be of any use to him at all. Vernice was certainly going to be his major trump card in this whole sordid affair. He only hoped her cover would not be blown at all because if it was their stay was going to be of a very short and painful duration… The distance between this den of vipers and their ship was considerable and would make any sudden getaways rather awkward if not impossible. Again, not promising. Add the fact that Merdan was by no means a fool and Qui-Gon felt a certain justification for the sudden uneasiness he sensed in the force. The end of the tale was in sight, but whether there was to be a happy ending or not remained to be seen. The door of the room swung back to reveal two figures: the first a rather burly looking male in the standard dark garb of the guards accompanied by a tall, elegant female form that Qui-Gon very nearly didn't recognize under the layers of makeup and eye-catching clothing. "Your order." The guard threw him a wink before giving the woman a slight shove forward. "Do enjoy." The door closed once more, leaving Qui-Gon and the semi-familiar female alone. "There must be some kind of mistake," Jinn smiled at her, "I ordered someone who was pretty and slender…" "Pardon?" Vernice stood with her hands on her hips, staring him down. "…but I seem to have been given somebody who is beautiful instead." He finished quickly. "Nice recovery, Jinny." Vernice growled. "I hardly recognized you." Qui-Gon stated, looking over the multiple pleats and braids, the silver colored strands woven through her hair. "Although I must say it has possibilities…who knows, maybe Yoda will sanction it as the new look for the council!" Vernice flicked her hand through her hair, ridding herself of her feigned persona and slipping effortlessly back into the role of practical, no-nonsense jedi master. "Nasty business, this." She remarked in a crisp voice. "I can't say this ranks as my favorite mission of all time." "Have they hurt you at all?" Qui-Gon demanded, all concern. "What…oh, no." Vernice realized what he meant. "No, I just do the old hand waving…" she demonstrated her force trickery, "and send them on their merry way thinking they've had the time of their life. I was rather relieved when I saw it was you this time." "What, don't you want to give me the time of my life?" Jinn enquired sweetly. "I did, if you recall." Vernice said dryly. "You liked it so much you hooked up with a crèche master!" Qui-Gon chuckled; knowing that unlike some he could mention Vernice had never borne him any grudges. He cast his eyes once more round the room, grimacing at the obvious décor. "What are you thinking?" she asked him curiously. "It just occurred to me how much Sal-Fina would fit right in with a place like this." He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Have you managed to find out anything about our problem?" Qui-Gon kept his voice as low as he could. "Not really." Vernice followed Qui-Gon's lead and sat beside him, trying not to let her stockings snap again as they had been all day. "The women are too frightened to talk. It's like there's something they're not saying - or dare not to say. Most of the time they don't even speak to me. They've got their own little groups and cliques and at the moment I'm kind of on the edge of all of them. There's one lady, a Corellian by the name of Nadine." Vernice nodded as she recalled the tough talking yet kindly woman. "She's the real smart one, I'd say. Seems to know everything that goes on in this place. It might be worth talking to her." Jinn listened and digested Vernice's information in silence. "Other than that it would appear that Merdan wishes to expand his business here. I think we are talking making this hellhole into something on a much, much larger scale. He must have the money to get it underway but I think he is looking for investors." "Might be the opening that I need." Qui-Gon pondered, rubbing idly at his face. "I think that was what Merdan was alluding to earlier when he said he might want to speak to me again. He must have done a check on my background and seen the credit signs flash before his eyes." "He'll try and dig deeper to make sure you are legit." Vernice warned. "Are you certain your ID will stand up to further scrutiny?" "It will have to." Qui-Gon shrugged. "There's not much I can do about it now." "Qui, why did you bring your padawan here?" Vernice almost groaned, shaking her head. "This place is not exactly wholesome!" "Maybe not, but I can't screen him from all the bad things in life. I may want him to be safe but the kind of disputes that we are sent on are generally not without danger. No, I weighed up the problem and decided that I need to have Obi-Wan with me as much as possible. Our bond is still somewhat brittle. I wasn't going to be able to mend it by leaving him back at the temple." "I wish I had left Tanni back at the temple at first." Vernice closed her long, artificial silver eyelashes. "I still remember the state he was in when I got the medics to help him. It wasn't pretty." "We are always protective of the children." Qui-Gon agreed. "Which is how it should be." His words brought back to Vernice something else she had wanted to discuss with him, and she turned round earnestly, clutching at his arm. "Qui, there's something else…there's a girl." "Sorry?" "A little girl. She stays with the women." Vernice let her meaning sink in, watching Qui-Gon's face flinch in disgust. "She's only about ten years old - she looks much younger than that." "Have you spoken with her at all?" Qui-Gon kept his voice much calmer than he actually felt. "Has she said anything?" "I have spoken with her." Vernice recalled their first meeting not so very long ago. "I got sent to work in the kitchens for a bit. I gather she spends most of her time down there trying to keep out of the way. She said that it was best not to ask many questions because it might get me noticed." "You can hardly blame anyone for not wanting to attract attention in this force-forsaken place." Qui-Gon admitted desolately. "I think I've just about made a friend out of her, although it took some doing." Vernice smiled, thinking on how the small Corellian child had very nearly foxed her. "Qui-Gon, if we get out of here I'm taking her with me." "Vernice…" "I know, I know! It will only complicate the mission further and we are already in it up to our necks. I know all this," Vernice pleaded with him, "but I couldn't rest knowing that I'd left her here to die. And she will die, Qui-Gon. I'm convinced of it. She's sick. If we don't take her out with us then she won't have a chance. She says Merdan will kill her when he finds out she's ill. He's done it before to others who have fallen victim to this illness. From what I have seen of him, I believe it totally." Qui-Gon didn't doubt that Merdan was capable of meeting out such horrific measures either but he still remained unconvinced. Too much already rested on their ability to make a potentially speedy getaway and adding to their problems by sneaking out somebody else was certainly not going to help their cause. "Are you sure she is sick?" Qui-Gon felt rather awkward at voicing his doubts. "Maybe she sees you as a potential way of escape from this place." "Qui!" Vernice shook her head. "I know what I can see with my own eyes. I know what the force is telling me. Even if it weren't so you could hardly blame her for wanting to escape! Look at this place," Vernice gave a disparaging glare to the carpets and curtains, the suggestive paintings on the walls, "Is the sort of place you would willingly leave a child? Amongst people who like to hurt for entertainment and kill for sport? With people who use women in the most appalling fashion? She hasn't got anyone to look out for her here. No family and few friends. If your conscience can survive intact leaving these poor wretches behind then that's just fine, but mine cannot." "I had to ask, that's all." Qui-Gon looked away. "Of course I respect your opinions. Maybe if I can meet with this girl and see for myself…perhaps she can help us with information about Inga Carlton." "I already tried that." Vernice mumbled, hugging her arms to her body. "I think she knows something but she feels she can't say. I don't know, maybe I should keep working at her. You might scare her." "Me?" Jinn puzzled. "What's wrong with me?" "Qui, don't take this the wrong way but you have one major flaw in a situation like this: you are a man. Men cause all the problems for the women in this place. I don't think you are going to be Mr. Popular with the child. Sith knows the kind of things she's already had to put up with." Qui-Gon nodded reluctantly, conceding the point. He knew that some of the padawans and initiates back at the temple thought he was pretty scary, taking his natural aloofness for something that bordered on coldness. He didn't want to scare their potential ally into refusing to say any more to them, or worse still feeling obliged to inform somebody of their true identities to save her own skin. A frightened person would do anything. "We shall do as you suggest then," Qui-Gon answered finally, "and stick with your idea at present. You know the situation here better than anyone does. Try and see what else you can get out of her. I'll maybe seek out this Nadine you talked of." "Okay." Vernice agreed, finally releasing her breath after what seemed like a lifetime of keeping it pent up within her lungs. "I'll see what I can do. I don't know what use I will be though. She seems fairly determined to say nothing in the hope that she'll just get left alone." She met Qui-Gon's troubled gaze and could see the battle his conscience was having. One side argued violently against adding to the risk whilst the other abhorred the idea of leaving behind a mere child amongst a den of sick minded slavers and flesh dealers. But which side would win? "Well," he said at length, "If she's to come with us I expect I ought to meet her, hadn't I?" ************* "Are you sure you feel okay?" Obi-Wan asked as he helped Jemmy limp back towards the kitchens. "That was really rough what he did there. It must hurt." "It's nothing." Jemmiah said quickly, keeping her eyes on the ground. "You get used to that sort of thing round here. I've had worse." "Worse?" Obi-Wan mumbled. "I tend to keep a low profile in the kitchens. Nadine says I'm too young to…join the women with whatever they do." She added hurriedly. "Most of the time I go unnoticed for days and days. Then some Nerf-brain like Keleskladt will come along and torment me just for some fun. He's the worst of the lot." Jemmy rubbed at her side. "He likes picking on me coz I'm so small." "Maybe you should lie down for a bit." Obi-Wan remarked. "You can have my room if you want." She looked at him with such suspicion that Obi-Wan immediately wished he had said nothing. "I'm fine thanks. Anyhow, I've got things I have to do." Jemmy sighed. "Probably more dish stacking or something in that line." "You shouldn't be standing when you've been kicked about like that!" Obi-Wan insisted. Jemmy looked surprised. "You are kinda weird, aren't you?" she remarked. "But thanks for your help and all that. My ankle is sore. I would have found it difficult to get back without your help…what IS your name?" Jemmy asked him. "O- Oh, didn't I say?" the padawan covered his mistake swiftly. "My name's, er…Jacen." "Well 'er - Jacen', " Jemmy managed to tease him, "thanks for being so nice. But I think you'd better let me get back to work or else I will get into BIG trouble." She waited until the door to the kitchen slid open to admit her, resting heavily on the boy's shoulder. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he should actually leave her there or if Qui-Gon would perhaps be wondering where he had got to. The thought of his master's displeasure didn't exactly fill Obi-Wan with joy but surely when he told him what had happened he would understand? "I'll make sure you're okay before I go." He headed over to the bench, half-pushing and half dragging the girl with him as he walked. "Is there anything I can get you at all? How about a drink?" Jemmiah studied him in amazement. The blue eyes seemed genuinely friendly, more than that they seemed to be anxious for her welfare. The caring way they regarded her almost caused her to feel uncomfortable. It was as if he could read her mind, or was at least attempting to. The black hair didn't seem convincing somehow, she didn't know how she knew it, and the multiple braids seemed to be bothering him in a self conscious sort of way. Something about Jacen just didn't ring true, and Jemmiah did not like a mystery. In a place like this not knowing things was quite likely to get you killed. There was no mistaking the quiet but gentle smile. Whatever else seemed false about him, whatever didn't add up to be true, his kindness was very real. "I should be getting you that." Jemmy made a small shrug with her unbruised shoulder. "You're the guest. I'm the slave." "I insist." Obi-Wan replied. "Have you got any ice?" "In the refrigeration unit." Jemmy answered, puzzled. "Good." The apprentice watched as she seated herself very carefully down upon the bench before turning to face the huge icebox in the corner of the room. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything so big in his life! And just think of all the food… "I've had dreams like this." Obi-Wan muttered, finishing with a small sigh. "Pardon?" "Oh, er I'm usually quite hungry." Obi-Wan admitted with a wry smile. "Infact it's become a running joke with my ma- my uncle." He berated himself for slipping up yet again. "Aren't you rich?" Jemmy frowned. "Most of the people who come here are. Can't you afford lots of food?" "Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm allowed to eat it." Replied Obi-Wan. "Gluttony tends to get frowned upon where I come from." "Oh." Jemmy said, watching as the boy's eyes lit up at the sight of all the food inside the unit. He almost seemed mesmerized by the vision before him. "You look as if you could do with something to eat." She stated quietly. "Want me to fix you something?" "What? Oh no…I can get it myself." Obi-Wan insisted. "But it's my job." Jemmy jutted out an indignant lip. "And besides, you're not meant to be here. If you get found down here it's not you that will suffer - it's me. If you thought what Keleskladt did was bad you wait until you see what Merdan can do when he's unhappy." "Bad, is it?" Obi-Wan asked lightly, trying to make conversation. "Permanent." Replied the girl with finality. "I don't understand," Obi-Wan looked inside the compartments for a tray of ice cubes, "why you don't run away? What's to stop you?" "The place is crawling with security men, incase you haven't noticed." Jemmy answered with just a touch of sarcasm tingeing her voice. "Or did you think the nice man with the blaster was just there for decoration? Anyway," she said with a downcast turn of her face, "the only place around here to hide are the caves in the cliffs. Not a hope of ever hiding in there and Merdan knows it. There are things in those caves that eat you! Things with teeth! Lots of 'em!" Obi-Wan shuddered but said nothing, wrapping several ice cubes inside a cheesecloth and walking back over to the Corellian girl. "Here." He offered her the bundle. "What's that for?" "To put on your bruises." He answered, sitting down beside her. "Put it on your ankle and see if it doesn't make it better." "It's going to melt all over my leg." Jemmy remarked balefully but took the object from him. "Thank you anyway. You don't have to be so nice. You can go back now. I don't want your uncle thinking you've got loose or anything." "That's okay." Obi-Wan offered her another smile. Jemmy was again surprised by the flashing white grin aimed at her direction. The clients didn't usually smile at her. Most of the time they tended to hit out at her, or kick her like Keleskladt had done. Maybe it was a day for surprises: first Vernice and now this boy. Something she didn't understand was going on and Jemmiah made her mind up to find out what it was. "Where are you from, Jacen?" Jemmy asked as she applied the freezing balm to her ankle, wincing at the sudden cold contact of ice against tender skin. "Coruscant." Replied Obi-Wan. "The capital." "I've heard it's big. Bright lights and stuff." Jemmy bit her lip. "Is it true?" "Yes," nodded Obi-Wan, surprised to find himself thinking so fondly of the planet where the jedi temple was housed, "it's just one giant city covering virtually all the landmass. It never sleeps. There are always things going on. Always things to see or do." "Is it bright?" Jemmy asked eagerly. "Nadine says it is. She was there when she was younger. When you approach the planet it looks as if it's lit up with rivulets of molten lava but it's really the lights from the planet. Is that right?" "Yes." Obi-Wan nodded pleasantly. "That's exactly what it's like. It sparkles like a great big Corusca jewel - hence the name. It's quite a sight, you have to see it…" he let his voice trail off slowly. "Sorry." He muttered. "That's okay. I just wondered, that's all." Jemmy looked at her ankle. "I'm sorry anyway." Obi-Wan said as contritely as he could. "Forget it." Jemmy repositioned the cloth slightly higher up her ankle. "Kriff, that hurts!" she hissed. "Pardon my vile Corellian tongue." "I wish I could do something to help." Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to look at her face. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure if I keep exercising it I can hobble about." "No, I meant…" the padawan sighed, regarding the slight, bruised little figure beside him. "It doesn't matter." Jemmy turned her head to meet his, not daring to hope. "Maybe you can do something for me." She asked carefully. "Nadine says that Coruscant has a place where all the Corellian dead are honored. All the cremated remains of those who never made it home are sent there, turned into tiny little stones and stuffed in the walls of this giant mausoleum that you can see for miles and miles…" "I've heard of it." Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "I've never seen it though." "Maybe if you could take a note back with you." Jemmy begged him. "They might put up some kind of memorial to my mother? She didn't make it home either and I don't want her to be forgotten. I think that's what every Corellian dreads most of all." She began to fidget in her seat. "I'm not allowed access to flimsy or stylus…I don't suppose you have either on you?" Obi-Wan felt in his pocket. "I do, actually." He managed to salvage an extremely crumpled piece of flimsyplast, trying to smooth out the creases before he handed both objects over to the girl. She stared at the flimsy for a moment as if wondering what to write. "Er…I'll just put down names." She wrote in steady if rather childish writing. THENA GLESHAN TODD JOEL GLESHAN JEMMIAH ANGELINE GLESHAN "There." She slipped the tiny corner of flimsy she had written on back across the table and into Obi-Wan's hands. "If there's anyway you can get this to the memorial place I would be really grateful. But don't show your uncle, please." She insisted. "Smuggling letters out would be really bad. I'd get into trouble so fast I wouldn't know what hit me. I think you would too." "He's not bad." Insisted Obi-Wan. "Really, he's quite sympathetic…" Jemmy laughed hollowly. "There's no such thing as a sympathetic man." She stated. "Don't tell him. Please." Obi-Wan reluctantly agreed. "Why is your name down on the list?" he wondered, staring at the big letters in bold basic writing. "It's not likely that I will escape here any time soon, is there?" she replied in a resigned voice. "At least not the way you mean. Please take the note. I don't want to be forgotten forever." Obi-Wan folded up the flimsy and slipped it back into his pocket, not knowing what to say anymore. His conversation had dried up completely. Jemmy seemed to sense this and sought to terminate the discussion immediately to save him any further embarrassment. "You'd better go." She attempted to smile but didn't really succeed. "Thanks for the ice. I'll make sure you get extra food sent up to your room." "Thanks." Obi-Wan replied, at a loss for words. "Oh, and I'm sorry about what I said earlier about your hair. It really is awful but I shouldn't have said it." "That's okay." The padawan replied, awkwardly heading back towards the door leading to the courtyard. "Take it easy. And stay out of sight." "Don't worry, I intend to." Remarked Jemmiah, watching the cautious figure slope away through the door. Then for a moment she just sat there with the ice pack on her ankle, trying to work out why she had the most awful feeling that something big and very bad was going to happen some time soon. "The day started out strange and just kept getting stranger." Jemmy sighed. *************** Vernice had left Qui-Gon after what he considered to be a suitable amount of time had elapsed. Not wishing to upset his male pride (or potentially cast aspersions against his manhood) Vernice had played along with it, knowing that if she suggested leaving his room earlier he would be heartily offended. Just imagine what the guards would think, she snickered to herself. She'd barely got three rooms away when one of them actually had the temerity to ask her how things had gone. Vernice winked at him, asked him long was a piece of string and promptly walked away. She wanted to make sure the little Corellian girl was okay. No matter what Qui-Gon had said Vernice knew there was no way the child was faking her illness just to enable her to get out. Well, she was glad that Qui-Gon had relented because even if he had refused to take her with them Vernice would have gone ahead and done it anyway. Her other aim was to try to get Jemmiah to talk to her about what was going on around her. Maybe now she could promise her an escape route out of here it might be the incentive needed to loosen her tongue a little. Wondering just how effective this form of bribery might be to a child who was very obviously afraid for her life, Vernice stopped in her tracks for a moment, using the force to try and locate the girl's life energy before walking slowly back in the direction of the kitchens. Well, there was only one way to find out how this would go… |