| As Long As There Is Hope By Jemmiah |
| "Where have you been?" Qui-Gon demanded in a cool but very much relieved voice, ice blue eyes meeting with stormy aqua ones. "I said DO NOT leave the room. Meaning DO NOT do it." He regarded the padawan with annoyance. "I trust you have an excellent reason for disobeying my orders yet again?" Obi-Wan flinched at the inference of his recklessness and disregard for his master's advice but could not deny the truth of the matter. To do so would be to lie - he HAD disobeyed Qui-Gon. The worst thing about it was that he did not regret it in the slightest, for if he had not been outside in the courtyard during Keleskladt's attack who knew what might have happened… "Master," Obi-Wan threw himself down on his bed, glad to be able to rest without worrying what might have befallen Qui-Gon in his absence, "I believe the force insisted upon it. Really," Obi-Wan saw his master's skeptical look; "It's true. I was really careful that nobody saw me. I knew that it was important to keep a low profile until we knew what was what. Then I saw this guard…and master there was this girl." Obi-Wan watched as his Qui-Gon's back stiffened visibly on hearing his words. "The guard attacked her, so I couldn't just leave her like that…" "You attacked the guard." Qui-Gon breathed in sharply. "No, master. I knew that would give the game away and that we were supposed to be undercover. I had to mind trick him into leaving her alone. It worked." Obi-Wan felt himself becoming defensive at Qui-Gon's dubious look. "He couldn't remember a thing about the whole incident." "I do hope you are right, padawan." Qui-Gon looked far from relaxed, pacing slightly about the room as he thought over his apprentice's words. "I suppose time will tell. But in future I expect you to do as I say, is that clear? I told you to stay indoors for your own safety!" "I apologize, master." Obi-Wan bowed obsequiously, "but I don't regret what I did. If I hadn't been there he might very well have killed her." Qui-Gon finally persuaded himself to sit down. The light from outside the window was beginning to fade rapidly, the sky being streaked with dark areas of purple-blue. There was little more they could do this evening, other than perhaps order some food and then discuss their plans for tomorrow. Tugging at the blind Qui-Gon shut out the dusk, thinking back to what Vernice had said. She was so determined to take this child with her! It seemed that everybody had met her except for him. "Describe this girl." Qui-Gon sighed, lying back in the wicker chair next to the dividing door between their two rooms. "Did she tell you anything useful?" Obi-Wan frowned. It was a bit difficult to tell what exactly constituted useful information in a situation like this. Most of what he and the girl had discussed had been just muttered asides, anything to avoid talking about what had happened in the courtyard. If she really had been subjected to treatment like that on a regular basis Obi-Wan wasn't at all surprised she wouldn't want to talk about it over-much. "Not especially, master. The more I do hear about it the less I like this place. She said that the guards are frequently violent and she likes to stay hidden." Obi-Wan gave a shrug of his shoulders. "One of them in particular likes to torment her. She had a healthy fear of Merdan. It seems he likes to solve problems by aiming a blaster at people who don't agree with him. Other than that we just talked about normal things." "Such as?" Qui-Gon asked, interested. "Well…food. Hairstyles," Obi-Wan tried to look at his own hideous hair by raising his brows and staring upwards, going cross-eyed in the process, "Coruscant. She seemed interested to know what it was like. Oh, and she gave me a letter to take back with me, but she begged me not to show it to you." "Why not?" frowned Qui-Gon. "Because she thinks you are likely to be a friend of Merdan's." Obi-Wan answered. "I don't think she has a very high opinion of the type of person who visits here. She's scared Merdan will find out she wrote the letter." Qui-Gon leaned forward, his leg jiggling slightly as it often did when he was thinking. "Anything else?" he asked. "She spends most of her time washing or helping in the kitchens. Even though her ankle was hurt she didn't take a break from her chores. Probably too frightened." Obi-Wan tried to recall any other detail that might be relevant as he pulled the note out from his pocket. "Her name's Jemmiah." "Corellian?" Qui-Gon took a guess at the origins of the name. "Yes." Obi-Wan agreed, holding out the note. He knew that he had to let Qui-Gon see it yet even though it was for the best he had still promised that he would not show it to the tall jedi, and he felt a certain amount of guilt at betraying her confidence like that. Well, that was not strictly true, he thought to himself as Qui-Gon took the flimsy from him. He'd promised not to turn it over to his uncle. From a certain point of view he was in the right… He hoped. "What is this?" Qui-Gon asked, looking extremely puzzled. "A list of names?" "The first one I think is her mother. I don't know about the second." Obi-Wan hazarded a guess. "Her father maybe?" "Possibly." Agreed Qui-Gon. "What did she give you this for?" "She wanted me to see if I could arrange for some kind of memorial for them back on Coruscant." "I thought they were Corellian…oh, I see. The Mausoleum." Qui-Gon pondered the childish writing. "I take it from this that her parents are dead? Vernice said she had nobody to look after her here. I admit I was intrigued at how a ten-year-old girl came to end up in a place like this." "She said that her mother never made it back to Corellia. That's all." Obi-Wan replied morosely. "But why put her own name down?" the master wondered. The silence that greeted him gave him all the answer he required. Qui-Gon looked at the names written on the flimsy sheet. Of course they meant nothing to him but to the Corellian girl they were obviously very special. It didn't so much strike him as the action of someone who was desperate to get away but rather someone who knew in their heart they would never escape the clutches of the wretched planet. Someone who was determined to make sure that her family was honored no matter what. It was a wonderful gesture, one that Qui-Gon found strangely moving. The council had warned him not to get involved. Had warned both of them to observe, collect data and return if they could. He had the feeling that Mace would be heartily upset if he knew he was so much as considering jeopardizing the mission just so that he could aid one single person. His head told him it was an idiotic risk… But it was already too late for that. "Master?" Obi-Wan was regarding him was concern. "Are you alright?" "Yes, padawan. I am perfectly alright, thank you." Qui-Gon said quietly. The tapping of his feet became more pronounced and Obi-Wan wondered exactly what his master's definition of 'alright' was. Finally, Qui-Gon made himself resigned to the fact that no matter how much his mind urged him against it the force had already made its will known to them both. He wasn't the battle weary, cynical and emotionally cold person many thought him to be. He had feelings just like anyone else did, merely he couldn't afford to let them cloud decisions of great importance: decisions that affected more than just himself. Try as he might he couldn't persuade himself to go against Vernice's urgings. The force willed it so. "There's nothing more we can do tonight." Qui-Gon tucked the letter into the pocket of his own jacket. "I will see if I can't speak to this Corellian girl you are both so taken with. Maybe she can help us. Who knows," he gave Obi-Wan a melancholy smile, "perhaps we can help her." Obi-Wan was about to speak when he heard a tentative knocking on the door. "It's her." He said in surprise. "Her?" "Jemmy." Obi-Wan rolled off the bed and hurried over to the door. Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. "Jemmy, is it? Have you forged some kind of bond with this girl?" "Master?" "How did you know it was her?" asked Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan stopped with his hand on the door coder. "I've no idea." He blinked, surprised. "I just did. And any bond I have wasn't formed knowingly." He's thinking of Cerassi, thought Qui-Gon silently as Obi-Wan keyed the door to open. I only hope this mission ends more favorably than Melida-Daan did. The padawan popped his head out the doorway and looked repeatedly back and forth in both directions but of the Corellian girl he saw no trace. Instead at his feet there lay a large tray with food upon it: Salads, cold Corellian sausages, and a small selection of sliced breads with smoked Alderaani cheese. At the side there was a tub of some kind of frozen desert. Feeling his insides slowly beginning to digest him from the inside out, Obi-Wan picked up the tray and retreated swiftly back into the room, shutting the door with his elbow. "Supper is served, master." Obi-Wan grinned. "We haven't ordered supper." Frowned Qui-Gon. "It pays to have a friend in the kitchens." The grin grew even bigger. "Although she shouldn't really have been hobbling about on that ankle." He set the tray down on the table next to his master. "I don't know about you but I am starving!" he sighed rapturously. "You are always starving, padawan." "I knew the force was telling me to befriend that girl for a reason." Obi-Wan said as he stuffed a slice of bread into his mouth. "Padawan! Do remember to chew!" chided Qui-Gon. "Sorry, master." Obi-Wan said with his mouth full. "I must say," Qui-Gon admitted reluctantly, "it was very good of the child to bring us this. Ten years old and working in the kitchens…" he couldn't quite get over the idea, recalling his own culinary experiences in the kitchens back at the temple when days were full of nothing more arduous than watching Dex juggling with onions or pretending to cut off his fingers. "Although I suppose it's better than working with the other women. Still, it's slavery anyway you look at it…padawan! You are NOT to eat the desert before you have finished the other food, do you understand?" "I was just opening it." Obi-Wan looked sheepish. "A likely story." Obi-Wan unscrewed the lid on the desert, and looked down. Piped in big, red letters with what appeared to be Dillarberry sauce he read the words: EXTRA FOOD. His face brightened still further as he held up the container for his master to see. "I think I'm going to have to marry this girl." He beamed. ******************** By the time Vernice made it back to the kitchens the place was deserted. Half disappointed that she hadn't been able to speak to the girl and half relieved that she was no longer slaving away or cleaning up, Vernice sat down on the bench by the wooden table and attempted to think what her next move should be. If Inga Calton had ever been here she had simply vanished without trace but according to Jemmiah that sort of occurrence was far from unusual. But how was she to prove that she had ever arrived in the first place? It wasn't going to be easy. She guessed that personal friend of the chancellors as she might have been, Valorum wasn't going to be too keen on the idea of sending in men to this sector who would (for all their military experience and numbers) very likely get their tails shot off by pirates and vagabonds. Valorum might be persuaded to take action if he had some evidence to link this nest of vipers to the disappearance of Ms Calton…but that was the difficult part. She doubted very much that Rufus Merdan was the kind of man who left that type of incriminating data around for anyone to see. He was simply too efficient. As Vernice pondered her problem the lights in the kitchen suddenly came back on, causing her to screw up her eyes. The hesitant sound of footsteps followed shortly afterwards and the door opened with a gentle push revealing the face of the person the jedi had been searching for. "Well, hello again." Vernice smiled casually. "I was hoping we might meet." "What are you doing here?" Jemmiah frowned as she closed the door behind her. "Rusa's supposed to relieve me here." Vernice noticed that the girl looked suddenly shocked as if some appalling idea had occurred to her, blood seemingly rushing from her face. "Not Rusa too…" he voice trailed off. "Sorry?" Vernice puzzled. "I don't understand." "It doesn't matter." Some of the strength seemed to return to her voice and the Corellian limped purposefully towards the table. "I was just taking some food up to one of the guests. Some strange kid with freaky hair." "Oh, him." Vernice stifled a laugh at the description of what was undoubtedly Obi-Wan. Kenobi had a slight vain streak to his nature that he tried to bury deep down but it frequently surfaced. Quite how the padawan would react to the description applied to him she wouldn't like to say. "Yes, I believe I have seen him in passing." "He seemed normal enough," Jemmy sat down, wincing as pain radiated from her ankle, "Considering some of the weirdoes you get here." The master stared at her for a moment, taking little time to home in on the source of her discomfort. "What's the matter with your ankle?" she enquired. "How did you know there was anything wrong with it?" Jemmy shot back. "This place is getting stranger by the minute! If you aren't some kind of magician person then what are you? How did you know?" "I could see the pain in your face." Vernice said simply. "Just like I can see the sickness you are trying to hide from everyone else. You must know you can't hide here forever." Jemmy made a big show of looking at her ankle. "How did you injure yourself?" Vernice persisted. "Did you fall?" "I didn't injure myself. That kriffing Keleskladt did it for me!" Jemmiah hissed as she viewed the discolored and swollen flesh near her foot. "I heard it go crunch. I thought he'd snapped it." "Will you let me take a look?" the jedi asked her. "I won't hurt you, I promise. I might be able to make it a little less painful to walk on." The Corellian regarded her suspiciously but carefully moved around so that Vernice could get a better look at the damage, unsure what the older woman was planning to do without the aid of any bandages, first aid kit or even the ubiquitous bag of freezing ice. Vernice viewed the injury for a moment from every angle before speaking. "Do you know what the force is?" Vernice asked her, not taking her eyes from her ankle. "Sorry?" Jemmiah made a show of not understanding. "The what?" "Force." Continued Vernice in a calming voice. "It's what I am using to heal the damage to your leg. You've got other bruises too, haven't you?" "Maybe." Jemmy admitted. "A few. But what's this force stuff?" "The force exists around us. It lives in us and in all things, and in the things we create too. We can't see it, but for those who recognize its existence we can tap into it and use it in our everyday lives." She could see a mixture of confusion and mistrust on Jemmiah's face and smiled inwardly. She hadn't exactly won her over yet. "So you can heal me with this invisible stuff?" Jemmy's voice held a degree of skepticism. "To a certain extent, yes." Vernice nodded. "I can help speed up the natural regenerative process a little, but I'm certainly no healer." She eyed the child surreptitiously. "Have you heard of the Jedi?" Jemmiah wracked her brains, some stray memory tugging at her thoughts. "Yes," she replied, desperately trying to remember. "We used to play at Jedi when we were small. My brother tied me to a tree and told me he was gonna rescue me." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Then he left me there for half a day in the pouring rain." "I didn't know you had a brother." Vernice looked surprised. "Is he on Corellia?" "No, ma'am. He's dead." Jemmy shrugged. As Vernice quietly continued to heal the girl as best she could Jemmiah started to piece things together, including the strange happenings that she would normally not be able to account for, straight from one of Nadine's ghost tales. Jemmy had wondered briefly if she were going mad the more her illness progressed but now… "That's how you made the plate float in the air!" Jemmy stated confidently. "You used this force thing, didn't you?" "Yes that's right." Vernice replied, concentrating on her healing. "So, where's your laser whatsit?" Jemmiah frowned, making a sweeping movement with her arms to mimic the use of a sword. "I thought you were supposed to have one, or am getting mixed up with something else?" "No, you are correct." Vernice answered after a moment. "I do have a sabre. But I don't have it with me because that would just attract attention to who I am. And I could really do without that right now." "I'll bet!" Jemmy's eyes rounded. She paused for a moment. "You're not the only Jedi here, are you?" she whispered. "What makes you say that?" Vernice looked up sharply from her ministrations and met Jemmiah's eyes. "Because that boy I was telling you about, the one with the strange hair?" she spoke in an almost idle, carefree way as if secretly pleased that she had uncovered some big secret. "He mind-whammied Keleskladt when he was beating up on me. Else I'd have had broken ribs for sure." Jemmy rubbed at her painful, bruised side as she remembered. "Am I right or am I right? Is he another one? Are there any more here?" Vernice was mightily impressed but not entirely sure how much she should give away. More was resting on this outcome than their own safety. Depending on how this episode ended lay the lives of many, many people. Everyone in this pit of degradation was in a lot of danger, that much was obvious to Vernice now. Giving away Qui-Gon's identity was not something she imagined he would approve of, yet the man had requested the opportunity to meet and question the child himself. Her mind thus turning, she hardly noticed Jemmiah's quiet voice. "You can trust me." She said in a shy voice. "I've got nothing left to lose." "I know that." Vernice replied after a moment had passed. What exactly was she to say? How much should she divulge? "I've decided to help you." Jemmy continued carefully. "But you've got to promise me something." "And what is that?" Vernice felt her breath catch slightly as she waited for the reply. "If you've got a way out of here you've got to leave as soon as you can. Things might get a bit nasty here for a while once they realize you're gone. Maybe we can make it look like you've fallen off the cliffs or something." Jemmy frowned, not certain how to make up a viable excuse that Merdan would swallow. "But you'd better get out of here quick smart. You and the funny looking boy and anyone else you've got here. Merdan will find out soon." She swallowed slightly. "He finds out everything eventually." "I give you my word." Vernice grasped Jemmiah's small hands. "But I also have a condition. You come with us." Jemmiah didn't react in the way that Vernice expected her to. There had been perhaps a momentary flicker of excitement and hope but it was soon extinguished by the realities of the situation they faced. Instead Vernice sensed resignation and a certain amount of irony from the girl. "I'm sorry, I can't." Jemmy replied finally. "But you have to!" Vernice insisted. "Don't you see? You will die here!" "I know." Agreed Jemmiah. "I've known that since the day I arrived on this planet. But I can't leave without the others, it just wouldn't be right. If you took me with you you'd have to take the others too and you can't do that, can you?" "No." Vernice shook her head. "No we can't. There's nothing I want more than to help but that's not possible." "I know." Jemmy agreed, looking far wiser than her childlike face suggested. "And that's why I can't go." "Please reconsider." Vernice begged. "Don't you want to leave?" Jemmiah twisted at her hair in agitation, not knowing how to answer. Of course she wanted to leave. She wanted it more than anything. To have this escape route placed before her but then to find it closed off was almost so intolerable as to make her cry, but she never cried in front of grown ups. Infact she rarely cried at all. "I've dreamed of nothing else for five years." She hung her head. "But I won't go without Nadine and the others. They deserve it more than me. They've been here longer. Merdan gets rid of those that look too old. He says it’s bad for business." "But you are sick." Vernice reminded her. "Surely that entitles you to as equal a chance as Nadine?" "That's not how things work here." Jemmy answered with a tired attempt at a smile. "I'm sorry but I can't go with you." Vernice felt utterly astonished and bewildered at the rejection of her offer. She knew that she would have to get Qui-Gon on her side somehow to affect a turnaround in fortune but one way or another Vernice vowed she was taking the girl out with her, even if she had to hit her on the head and drag her away. Somewhat drastic perhaps but it wouldn't be the first time she had done it. Dex still claimed he had the lump on his head to prove it… "How does the leg feel?" Vernice asked, breaking the silence that had grown between them. "Tingly." Jemmy said in a surprised voice. "Warm. It's not as bad as it was." "Good. That means it's working." Vernice frowned to herself. "Although maybe not as well as I had hoped. Nevermind, I'm afraid it's the best I can do." "That's okay." Jemmy looked down at her ankle. "I didn't really expect anything." The Corellian regarded her silently for a moment. "What is it you need to know?" "Remember that person I mentioned? The one I was looking for?" Vernice asked her. "I'm here on official business. The Chancellor has sent myself and two friends on this mission. The person who is missing is very special to him. Her name is Inga Calton. We are trying to find out what happened to her. Can you help me?" Jemmy stared at the floor. "The envoy?" "Yes!" Vernice exclaimed in an excited voice. "The envoy! Where is she?" "She's at the bottom of Kilmartra's cliff." Jemmy answered. "What?!?" "I remember her." Jemmiah cast her mind back a matter of weeks. "She had honey colored hair and really pale skin. I saw her from a distance. She refused to work with the other women and Merdan thought she might be more trouble than she was worth so Keleskladt got rid of her. Then she was dug up again and thrown over the cliff side so that nobody would find her." "Are you sure?" Vernice felt an almost crushing sense of defeat at the news. It was no more than she had been expecting and yet she had still hoped… "I'm sure." Jemmy shuddered as she recalled the burial detail earlier that day. That was it then. Their task was done. Valorum could take whatever action he deemed necessary, if any, but there was nothing left for herself, Qui-Gon and his padawan to do now other than escape. If only there had been some evidence though to link Merdan with the death of Inga Calton, some definite proof…then surely the senate would go to war against places like the settlement here on Nargotria. "Jemmiah, I need to get hold of some proof of Inga's death, or at least that she was here. I know, I believe you," Vernice held up her hand to stave off the scowling protest, "but if Valorum is going to free these people we need some kind of evidence for what is going on here. Is there anything you know of that might help?" "I…I don't know." Jemmy stammered at the thought of what she was about to suggest. "But I have to clean and dust Merdan's office tomorrow morning. I might be able to look through his things, but I think he has most of them locked away." "Don't take any risks!" Vernice urged her. "Like I said, I've nothing to lose now." Jemmiah tried to calm the sudden pounding in her heart. "I'll see what I can do for you. It might not be much, depending on how much time I have." The door clicked open and a rather surprised face popped round the door. "I'm sorry I was late." Rusa eyed the two as they sat beside each other, jumping with a guilty start. "I got delayed…" "Vernice was just keeping me company. I hurt my ankle." Jemmy displayed the swollen foot to Rusa. "Looks sore." Rusa frowned as she bent over to examine it. "You need to get some ice on that." "I already have." Jemmy replied. "Thanks anyway. I'd better go to bed now. No doubt there will be a mountain of chores tomorrow and I want to make an early start." She pushed herself up off the bench, using the table as her lever and tentatively limped back towards the direction of the door. Pausing to nod to both women, Jemmiah took her leave of the kitchen and hobbled off to her bed. "Good kid, that." Rusa offered as she watched her leave. "It's a terrible shame her being stuck here." "Yes." Vernice agreed, not wanting to think about the risk the girl would be taking on their behalf tomorrow. Sometimes there seemed to be no justice in the galaxy, no rhyme or reason. How could she just sit back and leave her there like Jemmiah had demanded? "Yes, It's a terrible shame." |