DWF8

Qui Gon and Obi Wan walked side by side as they followed Countess Neila through the crowded streets on their way to the huge city gates and the now planetbound courier ship waiting beyond.

<Something must be wrong with the ships communications system,> Qui-Gon thought to himself, carefully shielding his feelings of anxiety from his padawan, <Charsa is a major stickler for full updates whenever anything noteworthy occurs.>

When they arrived at the gates and were able to view the landing field outside, all three were amazed at the chaos that ran wild among the refugee ships. Medical teams were seemingly everywhere treating the injured as effectively as possible for the meantime and were evidently arranging transport to the med facilities for those who would require further attention to their injuries.

Obi-Wan focused his attention back and forth among the injured who were waiting for their turn at treatment, searching for the familiar faces of the Jedi who had begun this mission with he and his Master. His search so far yielded nothing, but he continued to keep an eye on the assembled beings awaiting medical attention…just in case.

Qui-Gon caught the merest glimpse of the courier vessel perched on the far edge of the bustling landing field. Finding himself unable to endure this leisurely pace, he strode forward briskly and replaced the Countess as the leader of the small group. The refugees that crowded the tarmac surface shrank back from his imposing form and scowling expression, providing a clear path to his destination.

They arrived at the red tinged ship to find it with its engines completely shut down and the main hatch locked tight. There was no activity whatsoever around it, which was suspicious enough for Obi-Wan to keep his hand near the hilt of his light saber. Qui-Gon stalked up to the entryway and punched a code into the access panel, the door immediately irised open and he stepped into the dimly illuminated interior while Obi-Wan and Neila waited outside in the early twilight.

Several tense minutes later Qui-Gon reappeared at the entryway, exited the craft and closed the portal behind him and returned to stand with his padawan and the Countess. "Obviously this is our ship since my access code worked, but there is no one on board," he told them with a grave note in his voice, "there are a number of travel packs lying about as if whoever was on board didn’t take the time to carry their belongings with them. Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize any of the packs, and there was no owner identification on any of them."

Obi-Wan had noticed the slight gleam of worry in his Master’s eyes as he delivered the last statement and thought quickly of how he might ease Qui-Gon’s concern. "Master," he said, trying to keep the tone of his voice light, "you said yourself that there is too much raw emotion flying around right now to be able to sense Master Charsa or Kason. Let’s give it some time and see what happens."

A soft chime from Neila’s silver wristband stalled Qui-Gon’s reply and the two Jedi watched wordlessly as the Countess lifted her left wrist to her ear and listened to the muted message delivered by the communicator. Several times during the brief interlude Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan could sense flashes of surprise and curiosity through the force from the Countess as she listened to whatever she was being told. The message evidently ended quickly because she lowered her arm and turned to gaze directly at the two Jedi before her.

"Interesting news," she said slowly, as if she were choosing her next words carefully, "that was a med technician letting me know that two injured passengers from this vessel have just been admitted to one of the medical centers. He said that one of them was similarly attired as yourselves, so I’m assuming it is one of you missing friends."

"And the other?" Qui-Gon asked impatiently.

"That one actually has a name," Neila replied, her eyes shining in curiosity, "the person who met the medics with the two patients told them that it is Vicetta Mermil of Llakret."

"Who was the person that accompanied them?" Obi-Wan blurted out impatiently.

"He didn’t say," Neila answered, an apologetic half smile on her face, "but we can go find out, I know which Medical Facility they’re in. It’s not far."

"After you M’lady," Qui-Gon said with a slight bow, his eyebrows knotted in anxiety.

A twenty-minute journey on foot through the nearly deserted, street lamp illuminated boulevards of the city brought the two Jedi and their guide to the front of a squat, yet imposing stone faced building.

"Master," Obi-Wan said in a soft voice, his blue eyes sparkling in the false illumination of the boulevard, "you know that I really don’t care much for hospitals."

"Indeed I do," the Jedi Master replied with a slight, knowing smile, "you must not let your emotions rule you. Besides, with the amount of time you’ve spent under the ministrations of the temple healers, I would think that you would be a master surgeon by now." The tiny smile continued to quirk the corners of his mouth.

Obi-Wan blue eyes darkened and he glared balefully at his Master in mute reply.

The trio quickly made their way across the foyer of the med center and approached the reception desk. "I’d like to have a brief word with med tech Jonn-Vek please," Neila said succinctly to the attendant.

The receptionist, evidently recognizing the Countess for who she was, nodded wordlessly and walked behind a partition standing nearby that acted as a shield for an adjoining archway. The attendant returned much sooner than the three companions had anticipated and resumed his seat behind the carved onyx desk. "Jonn-Vek will be with you shortly," he said in an oddly accented voice as he pointed to a corner of the foyer that contained a small gathering of chairs and stools, "you may wait for him over there if it pleases you."

Countess Neila moved off to the corner of the room while the Jedi bowed their thanks to the receptionist - who nodded wordlessly in acceptance and turned to resume his interrupted paperwork.

<Supposedly Kason is here, though I won’t give too much credence to that until I see him myself,> Qui-Gon thought silently as he followed his padawan across the foyer, <and accompanied by the ruler of Llakret…what could have possibly happened up there? And where is Charsa?>

Qui-Gon could feel a cold knot of dread begin to form just under his heart.

XXXXXXX

The med tech Jonn-Vek arrived before any of the three felt the stirrings of impatience. Qui-Gon was the first to catch sight of the middle-aged technician walking toward them. The man had a guileless, open face with laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, all topped off by a thinning shock of graying brown hair.

"Greetings Countess," he said in a subdued yet distinct voice, "how may I be of service to you and your companions?" He eyed the two Jedi warily, his unease around outworlders was painfully apparent.

"We seek information," Neila replied, consciously pitching her voice to be as soothing as possible, "you contacted me earlier concerning the arrival of Vicetta Mermil and an injured outworlder. You said that someone had accompanied them at the time and told you who the Vicetta was."

"I may have oversimplified things in the telling Countess," Jonn-Vek coughed slightly and his face took on an embarrassed look, "when I arrived on the scene, one of the emergency volunteers had already taken charge of the two patients. When I asked her if they were accompanied by any one she just pointed at two figures walking in the other direction. I called out to them, but I doubt they could hear me…what with all the pandemonium taking place, and they just faded into the crowd."

"What did they look like?" Obi-Wan blurted out, losing his patience momentarily, "were you able to see them well enough?"

"Well," Jonn-Vek replied, "like I said, things were pretty crazy at that point so I didn’t get a really good look. But one of them was tall…very tall and was covered in shaggy fur. The other was a young woman, though I wasn’t able to see her face."

"Perhaps we could talk to the volunteer who was there?" Qui Gon suggested in a tone of voice that indicated it was not a question.

"I wish you could," Jonn-Vek replied sincerely, "but I don’t know who she was, I’d never met her before." He shrugged to indicate his helplessness.

"Could we possibly visit our comrade?" Qui-Gon asked, his frustration obvious in the tone of his voice, "I’d like to make sure it really is him, not to mention checking on his condition."

"Now that I can do," Jonn-Vek said, relieved that he could offer some help after all, "if you will follow me…" He turned and led them to a door that opened into a corridor behind the reception area.

"We have them in the security ward for the meantime," the med tech said over his shoulder as he led the way down a hallway that reeked of antiseptic, "because of the Vicetta’s importance, and the mystery your ‘comrade’ presented, we thought it best to keep them apart from the other patients."

"A wise precaution," Qui-Gon replied gruffly as the technician stopped and opened a door on their right. The room they entered held ten beds, five to each side, but only the two closest to the door were occupied. In the first was a man Qui-Gon had never seen before, though even without prior acquaintance Qui-Gon could tell that this man had experienced some rough times in the recent past.

"Vicetta Mermil," Countess Neila murmured to the still and silent figure lying before her, "we meet at long last." She turned her attention from the unconscious form and looked at Jonn-Vek, "he looks like he’s been dragged face down through all nine hells. What is his condition?"

"He is stable, Countess," the med tech replied, "he has a rather nasty blaster burn on his side, and a serious concussion. But I am confident that he will recover…with time."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan walked to the next bed and stared down at its occupant. Short, spiky blond hair atop a young face that was much too pale, padawan braid lying listlessly and frayed on the white hospital pillow. Crisp, white linen sheets that came very close to matching the chalky pallor of the young man’s skin covered the rest of his body.

"Kason," Qui-Gon breathed in dismay, "what has happened to you?" His gaze was drawn to the dark circles under the young man’s eyes. Sunken cheeks gave the padawan’s face an unhealthy gauntness that disturbed Qui-Gon for some reason.

"Now, that one," Jonn-Vek stated without being asked, "is in a very unusual condition. Other than exhaustion, I can find no evidence of any serious physical injury; but nevertheless, he is suffering from severe traumatic shock. Without knowing the cause, I cannot begin a treatment."

"We need to talk to him…" Qui-Gon began, then his voice trailed off when he saw the technician shaking his head slowly.

"When we first arrived he started thrashing about, we were afraid he would injure himself so he was sedated…heavily." Jonn-Vek shrugged his shoulders apologetically, "It will wear off in a few hours, if you want to come back in the morning I will be glad to leave standing orders that you are to be allowed full visiting privileges."

"That would be appreciated," Qui-Gon said as he gently laid one hand on Kason’s shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and let the soothing power of the force flow from him into the padawan’s slumbering body.

The three visitors jumped slightly in startlement when a deep, muted chime split the silence within the facility. "Sorry, another load of patients from the landing field" Jonn-Vek said as he strode quickly to the doorway, "I am needed. I’m sure you can find your way out. I will expect your return in the morning." He disappeared into the hallway.

Qui-Gon turned to the Countess, who was still gazing dispassionately at the injured Vicetta. "Countess," he said in a courteous voice, "it is late, I suggest you retire for the evening and get some rest. Obi-Wan and I will rejoin you here at first light of morning."

"Very well Jedi," Neila replied, suddenly feeling drained by the exertions of the day and craving the comfort of her own bed, "I agree, but what of you and your companion? Do you have lodgings? I would be glad to offer…"

"Thank you, but we must decline," Qui-Gon interrupted as he beckoned Obi-Wan to follow him to the door, "my padawan have other business we must attend to this night. Rest well."

"What business did you have in mind Master?" Obi-Wan asked when the two Jedi had reached the relative privacy of the darkened hallway.

"There were half-packed travelling cases lying about on the ship, obviously the occupants did not have the time to take their belongings with them," Qui-Gon replied in his ‘teaching’ voice as they reached the foyer and passed through to the building’s exit, "we will return to the ship and wait for them to return and claim their belongings…and then we will get some answers."

XXXXXXXX

The late night air of Osiris was more than a little bit chilly and Rela’s body shivered uncontrollably as she and Hrruggla left the confines of the city walls and made their way onto the edge of the landing field.

{Remind me again why we’re skulking around at this time of night}, Hrruggla said in a low-pitched growl, {a good night’s sleep would do us both good.}

"I know," Rela replied, trying to keep the note of frustration out of her voice, "but we have to get back to the ship and get our stuff before anyone has a chance to inspect it."

{You mean before Qui-Gon has a chance to inspect it…} the Wookie growled in response, amusement tingeing her words, {why are you so afraid of him?}

"I’m not so afraid of him," Rela sighed as she pulled her cloak more securely around her to ward off the chill air, "I’m more afraid of disappointing him."

{Maybe next time you will honor your promises}, Hrruggla said softly as they began weaving their way through the silent maze of quiescent star ships.

If looks could kill, the one Rela threw at Hrruggla would have had the Wookie lying on a slab in the coroner’s office. She stopped herself in mid-thought, <I’m worn out and on a hair trigger>, she thought to herself, <if I’m not careful I could alienate the only friend I have right now>. "Hrruggla, I appreciate your help and friendship, but don’t pass judgement on me. I’m my own worst critic, and there’s not anything you can say that I haven’t said to myself a thousand times over."

{I know, dear child}, Hrruggla replied softly, her tall, shaggy form silhouetted against the star studded night sky, {I just wanted to make sure that you were thinking things through}.

* * *

Within the dimly illuminated ship Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan waited patiently, the Jedi Master was meditating…Obi-Wan could feel the undulating waves of Force concentration emanating from his teacher, but try as he might, he could not calm himself enough to be one with the force. <Something is about to happen,> Obi-Wan thought uneasily as he poked at the pile of travel packs with his booted toe, <something about this feels like the calm before a storm.>

As if in response to Obi-Wan’s unspoken comment, Qui-Gon’s eyes snapped open. His emerald gaze moving to meet that of his padawan. "Someone is approaching," the Jedi Master said softly, "two someones actually. Be ready Obi-Wan."

A sharp pang of hurt stabbed at the young man. <When have I not been ready Master?> he thought, shielding his thoughts carefully, <why do you find it necessary to remind me of that all the time?> He immediately pushed that thought away as being unworthy of a Jedi, followed his Master’s example and faded into the shadows of the ship’s entryway.

Master and Padawan stood immobile within the concealing shadows of the ship as the entryway cycled open accompanied by a rush of fresh air. Two figures stood in the opening, one tall and shaggy, the other was slight, almost delicate, and enshrouded by a heavy, voluminous cloak. The hatch closed behind the two figures and for a moment there was no sound within the confines of the small area. "So far, so good," a light, lilting soprano voice echoed from the durasteel bulkhead.

"Identify yourselves!!" Qui-Gon’s voice thundered in the cold silence as he stepped from the shadows, his voice ripping through the room. With a buzz-humm of power an emerald blade of pure energy erupted from the silver cylinder that he held.

{Stop, Qui-Gon!} the dark, tall figure roared, {you know me!}

The other, smaller figure gave out an ear piercing shriek and darted into an adjoining cabin.

Obi-Wan melted out of the shadows and followed the cloaked figure, calling on the force to give him strength and speed. He quickly overtook the shadowy figure and grabbed an outflung arm, spinning the person around to face him.

"Rela?!" he gasped in surprise, "what in the nine hells are you doing here?"

"A little of this, a little of that," she replied with her standard rejoinder and out of breath from her attempted escape, "please, please, let me go. Let me get out of here before..."

"Before what?" Obi-Wan said, breathing heavily from the short chase, his sapphire eyes shining with curiosity.

"Before Qui-Gon finds out I’m here!" Rela almost shrieked in panic, "I’ll be bantha fodder if he catches me here."

Obi Wan’s eyes shined even brighter and the ghost of a smile quirked at the edges of his mouth.

The young woman looked steadily at the slim young man in front of her. "He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?" Rela asked in a forlorn, tired voice.

Obi-Wan grinned openly.

"That would be correct," a deep voice answered from behind and above her, as strong, powerful hands gripped her shoulders.

XXXXXXXX

Qui-Gon lay on his small bed wrapped in his Jedi robes and his eyes stared off at nothing in the inky blackness of the cabin he shared with his padawan onboard the courier vessel. From across the cramped cubicle, he could hear Obi-Wan’s rhythmic breathing and an occasional dream induced mumble from the young man as he slept.

<It’s all so much to try to absorb at once,> thought the Jedi Master as he continued to gaze at nothing, his thoughts tumbling over each other.

After their surprising reunion earlier, and after he had convinced Rela that he wasn’t going to kill her for her duplicity…yet, they had all settled down in the main gathering area of the ship and listened to Rela’s tale of the events that had occurred on Llakret and ended in such a horrific conclusion for the moon colony and the poor souls who had not made their way to safety. Time stretched and before they realized it, the early morning hours were upon them. By the end of telling her story, Rela’s emotions were wound so tight that Qui-Gon knew that there was no chance that she would be able to rest at all this night. Obi-Wan had been similarly affected and in a fit of desperation Qui-Gon had called on the force to compel both of the youngsters to go to sleep, if only for the remaining two hours until the sun rose. But try as he might, he could not force himself to relax enough to find the sleep that he craved.

<Charsa…>, the Jedi Master’s mind whispered to him unbidden.

<Jedi are no strangers to the possibility of death,> Qui Gon mused, his thoughts turning mournful, <sometimes the path we follow demands it. But to go in such a way…what a waste.> He shook his head slightly in heartfelt regret.

<And Kason,> Qui Gon’s mind almost reeled at Rela’s description of explosive power that the teenager had unleashed, <whatever he did, it was NOT Final Strike as Charsa thought. The legend of Final Strike has always entailed that the Jedi who invokes the rite is destroyed along with the target, hence the reason it was supposedly only used as a last resort. I don’t know what he did, but I certainly would not want to try it…unless there were no other choice.>

He sighed softly and tried to re-arrange himself into a more comfortable position, yet sleep still eluded him. From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse through the cabins only porthole of the slightly less dark night outside, the sky was taking the deep bluish cast that heralded the approach of morning.

<Time to get up and get everyone organized,> Qui Gon said, looking regretfully at his tousled bunk, <first order of business is to go check on Kason, then we’ll see what else the day has in store for us.>

* * *

As the four companions gathered in the main cabin of the ship, Rela’s head felt as if it was packed full of straw and her eyes were gummy due to lack of sleep. None of the others looked as if they felt any better, so she decided to keep her mouth shut and not complain.

The hatchway opened at Qui-Gon’s command and they all stepped out into the almost painfully bright sunshine of the new morning. They all started off on their journey across the landing field, Qui-Gon in the lead with Hrruggla, Obi-Wan and Rela trailing behind. Shadows of the high flying, puffy white clouds seeming to chase each other among the stationary spacecraft standing on the tarmac.

"So Rela," Obi-Wan asked with a casual air as he sidled up beside her, "just out of curiosity, how did you end up on Llakret to begin with?"

"Could the formal inquisition into my presence on the moon please wait until both of my eyes are open?" Rela snapped back in response, the tone of her voice a bit more acidic than she’d intended.

"Not a problem," Obi-Wan replied tersely, shrugging his shoulders to indicate his nonchalance, "whatever suits you." He then lengthened his stride somewhat to catch up to his master and walked side by side with Qui-Gon.

"Ugh," Rela muttered softly, "too little sleep and too many things to worry about."

{Worry serves no purpose my small friend,} Hrruggla growled, obviously having overheard Rela’s remark, {you can worry about something from now until the end of days, but it won’t help anything}.

"I know," Rela replied with a sigh, "its just that I’m so tired right now, what I wouldn’t give for some peace and quiet, just to get some rest for a while."

{Ah, yes…rest,} the Wookiee said with a thoughtful gleam in her brown eyes, {Charsa rests now}.

Rela felt as though the Wookiee had suddenly doused her with a bucket full of ice water. "W-what is that supposed to mean?" she stammered in shock.

{Always remember Rela girl,} Hrruggla replied in a voice so low that only Rela could hear, {you may be tired now…and you most likely will be again, in time. Someday you may be hurt, you may suffer loss…though I certainly hope that you do not. But all those things should serve to remind you of one fact…that you’re alive…and as long as that is so, then you have hope. Even though life may bring you hardships…it is preferable to the alternative}.

"I think I understand what you mean," Rela replied thoughtfully as she looked up at the imposing city gates, "I’ll think about what you said. For now though, I think we need to catch up with Qui-Gon." She pointed at the tall Jedi Master who was now far ahead of them due to their slow pace while talking.

Rela sprinted forward at a dead run with Hrruggla right beside her and they quickly caught up with the two Jedi. Qui-Gon turned slightly as the two scrabbled to a stop and resumed a more stately pace directly behind him. The gleam in his eyes as he looked a Rela reminded her that she was still on thin ice as far as the Jedi Master was concerned and she shivered slightly in unpleasant anticipation of the ‘nice long talk’ he had promised her they would have ‘very soon’.

<I would ask what else could go wrong,> Rela though wryly, <but as soon as I did…I have no doubt that I would find out first hand.>

XXXXXXXX

The four continued on their trek through the city wordlessly until they reached the entrance to the med center, Qui-Gon stopped and turned to look at Rela and the Wookiee. "Please try not to get into any trouble while we’re inside," he said with a hint of weariness in his voice.

Hrruggla growled unhappily at having someone think she needed to be reminded of such a thing.

Rela fluttered her eyelashes coyly as she unleashed one of her most dazzling smiles, and was gratified to see the corners of the Jedi’s mouth quirk slightly upward in response. <So he’s unfrozen towards me somewhat,> she mused silently, her spirits considerably lifted, <we’re not out of this yet, so I had better play my cards carefully.>

Inside the Med Center the light was subdued and comforting while the temperature was a welcome decrease from humid, almost steamy weather outside. Rela sighed in relief as the cool indoor air dried the perspiration that was beaded on her forehead.

They passed the administration desk and made their way down a lengthy hallway. Roughly halfway to the end Qui-Gon stopped, opened a door and passed inside followed by the others.

Standing just inside were two people that Rela had never met before, their facial features and tanned skin indicated that they were native to Osiris.

Qui-Gon beckoned Rela and Hrruggla to step forward and then turned to face the two strangers. "Countess Neila and Med Tech Jonn-Vek," the Jedi said as he placed one hand gently on Rela’s shoulder, "allow me to present a recent addition to our little group…Rela, someone whom I’ve known for quite some time."

Jonn-Vek nodded wordlessly in greeting while Neila murmured a brief, "welcome." Their attention locked on the imposing figure of the Wookiee standing nearby, both wore astonished expressions on their faces and scarcely even blinked as they stared at the unfamiliar being.

"And this…"

"And this," Rela interrupted Qui-Gon as she placed her hand on the Wookiee’s shaggy arm, "is Hrruggla, a dear and trusted friend." She noticed the look of unease and concern in the two sets of eyes and decided she should try to put them at their ease. "Don’t worry," Rela quipped brightly, patting Hrruggla’s arm in a friendly manner, "she doesn’t bite." Rela’s smile dimmed a little and she looked at the floor as if in deep thought. "Well…no, actually that’s not quite true," she continued cheerfully as if she were discussing the weather, "she DOES bite…but just not friends."

Rela beamed happily at the small group for a long moment until finally Obi-Wan coughed loudly as he tried to stifle a laugh at the young woman’s impertinence. Obi-Wan glanced quickly at Qui-Gon and was surprised to see the Jedi Master’s eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth.

"Who’s making all the noise?" a sleepy voice sounded from one of the beds, all six visitors turned around to find themselves being regarded by a set of emerald green, black slitted eyes.

"Well, hello cat boy," Rela called softly as she walked towards the young Jedi, "so you decided to re-join us, hmmm? How’re you feeling?"

"I’ve been better," Kason replied with a wry grimace as he tried to sit up so he could see everyone from a more comfortable position.

Obi-Wan stepped forward and hastily put his arm behind the younger Jedi to ease him into a sitting position while Rela plumped extra pillows on the bed to help support him.

Kason eased back into the oversized pile of cushions behind him with an obvious sigh of relief. "Thanks," he said in his soft voice, "that’s much better. I don’t seem to have much strength at the moment."

"That will not last long young padawan," Qui-Gon said comfortingly, "I can sense that you are on the road to recovery already, have patience and soon you will be good as new. Soon you will be back among those at the Jedi Temple and continuing your education of the Force."

A brief flicker of inner pain flashed across the young man’s face and Qui-Gon silently berated himself for giving the padawan reason to remember his loss so soon after awakening. Qui-Gon motioned for the Countess and Med Tech to join him, hoping to distract the young Jedi by introducing him to the two Osiris natives. As he was making his introductions, a low moan sounded from the other bed and all talk in the room stopped cold.

Rela bounded across the small space to the other bed with a squeal and hopped up to sit on the edge next to its reclining occupant. "Mermil," she said excitedly, "you’re finally awake…I was so worried!"

The man on the bed looked at the others in the room wordlessly and returned his gaze to Rela’s, one eyebrow lifted questioningly.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Rela mumbled to herself, then spoke louder to address the room, her eyes twinkling with merriment, "Lady and gentlemen, allow me to introduce Vicetta Mermil of Llakret. Generally a thief and swindler, but still a pretty decent guy."

Mermil grinned lopsidedly and waved weakly at the assembled visitors. "Thanks for having me," he said, his voice trembling with fatigue and the last vestiges of shock, "and if you don’t mind me asking…what’s for breakfast?"

XXXXXXXX

The passage of a mere two days time found Kason physically strong enough to leave the Med Center permanently and partially resume normal activities, as long as they didn’t tax his strength too severely. Qui-Gon was secretly concerned about the young man’s emotional recovery, and was reminded of that every time he looked into the boy’s lackluster green, feline eyes. Kason’s face and body were still gaunt and paler than normal, but that was sure to improve in time; but for some reason the absence of vitality in his eyes troubled the Jedi Master greatly.

During waking hours Kason divided his time between his fellow Jedi in their silent observation of the newly formed Congress - and Rela, who accompanied him on long walks through the City Gardens, sometimes talking…sometimes listening…sometimes they just walked in silence, each content to allow the other to dwell on private thoughts.

After years of observing the seemingly endless debate and frustrating rhetoric of the Republic Senate, all three Jedi were somewhat amazed at the direct efficiency of the new Congress of Osiris. In less than a week they had decided upon the checks and balances that would be incorporated into the budding Government so that one part would never be able to overpower another. Qui-Gon was quite sure that the presence of the imminently capable Countess Neila played an important part in the efficiency of the Ruling Body.

After the break for mid-day meals was concluded, the Congress again convened to continue its development of the new planetary government. The Jedi Master and two Padawans moved to an unobtrusive distance from the throng of delegates and sat on benches far enough away so as not to intrude, but close enough to hear what was going on.

Obi-Wan and Kason muttered to each other in scarcely concealed surprise when they saw Rela enter the still-open doors of the chamber and began wandering in their general direction.

"I thought politics bored you to tears," Obi-Wan said quietly to Rela as she arrived and deftly wiggled herself between him and his Master to sit on the long wooden bench.

"Something tells me that today may be a little different," she replied as she squirmed a bit, trying to get a little more comfortable, "I just thought I’d take a look around." Her brown eyes twinkled as she took in the surrounding chamber and the assembled dignitaries, making tiny monosyllabic noises when she spotted something or someone interesting.

Qui-Gon continued to stare down at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly above his sea blue eyes, but he decided to say nothing for the meantime.

His other eyebrow rose to match the first when he noticed the form of Vicetta Mermil come walking, however unsteadily, into the Congressional meeting place.

"Hold on to your robes, boys." Rela’s half whisper was barely audible, but the three Jedi heard it plain and clear. Obi-Wan and Kason turned to her for clarification, but she just stared forward intent on the proceedings - as did Qui-Gon.

"My dear Vicetta," Neila’s contralto voice sounded clearly throughout the Congressional Chamber, "you should be resting - do you not trust us to inform you of anything important to your holding?" An irritated and slightly suspicious gleam shone in the Countess’ eyes.

"On the contrary beautiful Lady," Mermil replied as he plopped down unceremoniously in an empty seat near the assembly, "it is I who wish to give YOU important information." It was obvious that he was still not fully recovered, his face was too pale and perspiration dappled his forehead even though it was quite cool in the chamber, but his gaze was sharp and his voice did not waver in the least when he spoke. Several more of the Congress members turned in their seats to look at Vicetta Mermil and fixed their attention on him.

"By all means then," Neila said and gestured gracefully with both hands for Mermil to continue speaking, "tell us what is so important that it causes you to leave your bed and bring you all the way to the Capital Building."

Mermil stood unsteadily and fastened both hands on the back of the chair in front of him. Though he looked as if he were about to collapse and fall over at any moment, his voice was clear and strong as it rang throughout the huge domed chamber. "My Lords and Ladies of Osiris," he began formally, then added more volume to his voice so as to heighten the impact of his pronouncement, "the sovereign territory of Llakret Moon Colony wishes to petition this newly formed Congress for membership within the Ruling Body and add the Moon itself to the territories held within its control."

Complete silence answered his pronouncement for several uncomfortable moments.

"Hello…" Mermil said, shuffling his feet nervously, "so whaddya say?" Then, like a sun rising above the horizon, he could see a dawning comprehension take spark in the many of the eyes that regarded him.

The transition from deafening silence to deafening furor was instantaneous. Suddenly the delegates were on their feet, shouting back and forth at one another, a multitude of arms waved in the air as the delegates tried to make their individual points understood.

The chaos was barely abated, and the shouting had reached a fevered pitch when Mermil collapsed bonelessly to the floor with a muffled thud; only Rela, sitting on the bench between her long time friends witnessed his collapse.