| It Takes One to Know One By Jemmiah |
| Find Sal-Fina…find Sal-Fina… Simeon didn't particularly want to find Sal-Fina in the first place. She was tall, aloof and somewhat dismissive of all those further down the evolutionary scale of perfection than herself: which was to say everybody. With a gaze that could alternately roast a Wampa at 100 paces or freeze-dry a Bantha where it stood, Sal-Fina was a formidable person to get on the wrong side of, as many had the misfortune to find out. As a healer, Simeon didn't pay attention to any ill feelings directed his way. Most patients were crotchety and short-tempered to start with, and those who were fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on their point of view) to be detained as in-patients tended to have the shortest fuse of all. It didn't go any way towards explaining Sal-Fina's icy temperament as she was rarely at the infirmary - with the notable exception of the last few days for a mystery complaint - so Simeon just put it down to the fact that she was female, highly strung…and just plain insane. "Wouldn't go anywhere near her if I could help it." Simeon murmured under his breath as he walked down towards the housing block, hands held behind his back as if straightjacketed into carrying out An-Paj's wishes. "But I suppose that if Obi-Wan were here, he'd want to know if Jemmy was hurt, so it looks like I've got no choice but to tell Master Ice Queen about Jemmiah. Although I'd put money on her refusing to visit and not actually going." Whilst still reeling from the idea that someone would willingly punch and kick a ten year old child about like they were some kind of ball in a street game, Simeon couldn't help but spare a moment of sympathy for his friend Obi-Wan, and indeed the padawan's master. It was such a terrible thing to happen at any time, but for the attack to have occurred the first occasion that both master and apprentice had left Jemmiah behind would be utterly galling to both of them. Not that Simeon pretended to know Qui-Gon Jinn terribly well, but Obi-Wan would feel the misfortune very deeply. How could he not? Somewhere on some level he would be trying to reason with himself that no blame could possibly be apportioned to either of them, whilst wishing only to curl up some place and hide from the inevitable guilt… "It's just one of those horrible things, that's all." Simeon spoke, as if somehow seeking to reassure Obi-Wan. "Nothing anyone could do…but I hope they find the worthless slime stain who did this! Miserable sithspit! If you ask me, people like that aren't worth the air they breathe…I hope whoever did it gets their guts spilled all over the pavement…" "Simeon!" A reproving voice said from just behind him, causing the seething padawan to jump visibly. "That's a terrible thing to say about anyone! What on Coruscant are you talking about? More to the point, who are you talking about?" Simeon's mind went completely blank as it often did whenever his former crèche master addressed him in a mildly rebuking tone, his skin turning a violent shade of red in the process. How did they manage to do that, he wondered, watching with increasing alarm as Evla Sovalla circled to step infront of him just as they were approaching Sal-Fina's door? Was it some sort of ritual crèche carer's trick passed on from generation to generation enabling the individual to step seemingly out of nowhere and scare the living daylights out of the guilty minded? Did they home in on those who were terminally embarrassed? Or did they simply, after years of tending to countless younglings and initiates, know the quirks and personalities of everyone of their children? Whatever it was, the way Evla was staring at him was reducing him to an incoherent stammer! "M-m-m-m-m-mmmmaster S-s-s-ssssovalla!" Cates squawked in an up-and-down near adolescent voice. "I can't believe you would say such horrid things!" Evla placed her hands on her hips, refusing to let Simeon go any further. She felt extremely let down that Simeon of all people would behave in such an ill-mannered way, especially when she was almost ready to admit to herself that he was amongst her favorite of the former initiates she had cared for. "I never brought you up to speak in such a heartless way. Who could possibly have got you so angry? This just isn't like you at all!" "Master." Simeon bowed apologetically, feeling the red heat of humiliation extend from his face to right down his neck. "I…I'm sorry. I never hear you there." "So I see." Evla eyed him distrustfully. "Although that doesn't excuse your disgraceful tirade. Imagine wishing harm to another being! No, Simeon," Evla held up a warning hand telling the boy not to interrupt, "there isn't an excuse that could possibly justify what you said. Think about it…what you said was so near to the darkside…I'm utterly speechless!" Simeon wondered briefly if he was about to do something really stupid, like burst into tears before his former crèche nanny, before realizing that what she had said was technically correct. He'd wished harm on another person: a worthless individual to be certain, whoever they were, but in doing so it had rendered himself as base and contemptible as the faceless perpetrator! He'd wished them dead…and Evla was right. He'd let his anger at Jemmiah's plight cloud his reason. "I hope you are ashamed." Evla added, already sensing precisely how mortified the boy was. "I am." Simeon whispered contritely. "I…I didn't mean to. I was upset…I'm so sorry." "Simeon," Evla's voice was persistent, if less strident than before, "You're training to be a healer! Something that calls for tact and sensitivity, not foul words and a hostile tongue! Now, I suggest you go home and meditate these…these…emotions away. Clear them from your mind! I know that sometimes things can go wrong and that we all have bad days. Sometimes it even seems as if the galaxy is conspiring against us. That's not an excuse to take our negative feelings out on the undeserving!" "Master…" "I can't think of a single thing," Evla drew herself up to her full height to focus his full attention on her, showing that she meant business, "that could merit that outburst. Now, I know you are a good boy at heart and that is what I find so puzzling. I mean…why?" She gave a baffled shrug of her shoulders, before allowing herself to slump against the sidewall. "Is there something troubling you that I can perhaps help you with?" Simeon bit down hard against his lip. Bring Sal-Fina down to the infirmary, that was all An-Paj had asked him to do. Nothing had been said about stopping and passing on gossip, infact if there was one thing that his master disliked it was unnecessary storytelling. In the past Simeon's natural friendliness, not to mention his love of chattering and conversing with people had gotten him into hot water before without him even realizing he was causing any trouble. Since then he had worked hard to be mindful of what he said lest it get him in trouble, but guileless and unguarded as he was, Simeon found it hard work. "I just," Cates bit down hard against his inner disgust and loathing, trying not to think of the poor Corellian girl as Ferdi had stretchered her in to the infirmary, "I…I don't know!" I want to say hate, Simeon thought furiously. But I won't. I trust in the force. What goes around comes around: whomever hurt Jemmy will get their comeuppance in time, no matter how long it takes. "What?" Evla tried to nudge him into revealing his feelings. "It's just that as a healer I…see things sometimes." He mumbled into his chest, causing Evla to strain to hear the words. "Things that are distasteful or…unpleasant. Sometimes very bad things. I hate seeing people suffer…I like to see them well and happy. That's why I want to be a healer: to help people!" He cleared his throat uncertainly, taking Evla's slight smile as tacit encouragement to continue. "But when I see things," he twisted uncomfortably so as not to look at her, "that are evil…when they're done on purpose or inflicted only with the intent on giving maximum suffering, then I start to get annoyed. I despise cruelty, Master Sovalla. You taught me that. You taught me that hurting people was wrong." This time it was Evla's turn to blush, even if it was true. "You should have seen the state of her when they brought her in!" Simeon's voice leapt higher with distress. "All I could think of was why someone would do something so insensible! And then I started to wonder how she must be feeling…and then how Obi-Wan would feel when he found out and I felt so bad for them both that I rather lost my temper…please don't tell An-Paj?!?" Simeon pleaded, hoping that the love Evla had borne him as a crèche child would still carry enough weight now that he was a young adult, learning the ways of the force. "Please?" Evla felt as if some cold, creeping fog had descended upon her legs: swirling upwards around her body intent upon squeezing her heart with invisible icy fingers. She didn't want to know…just incase it was something bad…yet at the same time she was compelled to ask, in the same way a child might watch a horror vid through splayed fingers. It was as if a cloud had settled upon her: a cloud the same weight as a permacrete slab. It had something to do with Jemmiah. Somehow she just knew it. The girl was missing…and now Simeon was about to tell her something awful…something she wanted to block out by placing her hands firmly over her ears. "Why," Evla tried to keep the dread from entering her voice, "do you mention Obi-Wan?" Simeon swallowed. "You know what he is like, master. Sometimes he blames himself for the slightest thing of which he has no control. And I think that both he and his master will somehow feel guilty that something has happened to Jemmiah in their absence, with them not being able to be there at her side…" Even although it had been what she'd expected Evla still recoiled with shock at the mention of the girl's name. What had happened? Surely she'd gone to school as normal that day? Had there been an accident at school, was that it? Force, how big an incident had it been?" "Jemmiah?" Evla demanded, taking a swift step towards Simeon. "What has happened to her? Simeon, tell me what you know. Please? I was supposed to meeting her for supper this evening…" Her voice trailed off, seeing the visible sympathy in Simeon's dark eyes. "I didn't even know that you'd met, master." Simeon replied mournfully, rubbing at his arms as if cold. "She got brought into the infirmary unconscious by a couple of Wookies. Apparently she'd been attacked and left in the gutters behind some fleapit cantina." His voice seemed to curdle with disgust. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier, master. It was truly inexcusable…but what kind of lowlife does that sort of thing to a ten year old girl?" "Is she badly hurt?" Whispered Evla. "I'm not sure." Simeon admitted shamefully. "She wasn't pretty when they brought her in, but I don't know how bad she was. As a padawan they don't tend to let me have much input into technical aspects of cases. I imagine they'll cover her in bacta bandages to take the swelling down from where they stamped and jumped on her…they gave her a real kick in the head, let me tell you." Evla put her hand over her mouth, hoping she wouldn't be ill. Simply she had heard enough. Simeon of course was right: Qui-Gon would berate himself for not being there at his 'daughter's' moment of need. And where was Sal-Fina? Not at home, that much was certain, for Evla could sense no trace of the blonde jedi from inside her rooms. This time it was Evla who, slowly but surely, was beginning to understand exactly what Simeon had been feeling. So easy to be angry…with the evil Sithspawn who had hurt Jemmiah and left her there, injured and on her own…and with Sal-Fina for being utterly useless as the girl's guardian. Damn it, Jemmy needed her! Above all else Evla was almost angry at herself for not realizing sooner that Jemmiah's disappearance had not been by chance…or that she had become especially attached to the child over the last few days. "I'll come with you." Evla pulled Simeon around by the arm so that they were both facing back in the direction of the infirmary. "Let's go." "But," Simeon protested as she frog-marched him along, "I was told to fetch Sal-Fina…" "Master Falmar's not in." Evla snapped irritably as the image of the tall master came to mind. Oh, how she would suffer for her absence today! And as for Mace…she hadn't even begun on him yet! "And as Master Jinn isn't here it falls to a representative to step in and make sure that the girl has some company. Inasmuch as my crèche shifts allow then I will take on that responsibility." Something about the steely look in Evla's eyes told Simeon not to protest. The woman was clearly on a mission…or was it a crusade against Sal-Fina? He'd been told to come back with Master Falmar but had come back with Evla Sovalla instead… An-Paj would surely consider that to be a bargain… It took Evla roughly twenty minutes to make her way from the massive array of apartments within the housing complex to the infirmary, more or less sweeping Simeon along with her as she went. Infact, the dark haired padawan couldn't help but notice the untypical impatience that had apparently come over the crèche master, so much so that even when shut in the lift she appeared to be once step ahead already, waiting to launch herself into action the moment the doors swung open. And all this weird behavior was down to Jemmiah? Evla had seen so many initiates in her care down the years that it was only natural she might take an interest in the welfare of a child as good as abandoned by her temporary carer, and of course the attack on Jemmy had been particularly nasty so perhaps it was understandable when she wished to help. Even so, Simeon had shamelessly examined the master's face for any give away feelings that might explain precisely why she was all but beating down doors in a bid to get to the infirmary by the shortest route! Ever the well-practiced child carer, Evla Sovalla hid her emotions well. On arriving within the hallowed doors of the infirmary effortlessly Evla homed in on An-Paj without having to consult a single healer or passer by as to his whereabouts, let alone the padawan standing by her shoulder. Not for the first time did Simeon have cause to admire his former carer's natural force instincts and intuition, nor did the phrase 'Nanny knows best' ever take on such relevance! Always kind and generous of spirit, Evla nonetheless possessed a determination that would have done a Reek proud, and when hell-bent on finding out something it was generally considered best to politely move out of the way and let her get on with it… Given the way she's already given me a verbal mauling I think I'll just stand by and observe. Simeon thought with prudence that went far beyond his fourteen odd years. I don't want to have to brush up my elementary surgery techniques by using myself as a patient! An-Paj, who had been sitting in his private office reading over some case notes, looked up at Evla with much surprise as the master knocked upon the open door, seeking permission to enter. The fact that his own padawan was lurking like a light blue shadow just one pace back told the man that something interesting was about to unfold. Curious, thought the healer, playing a little game of searching the corridor behind Simeon as if looking for someone or something, standing on tiptoes and craning his head to see better. He'd not really expected Sal-Fina to turn up but then again he'd not expected his apprentice appear with somebody else either! "I see no sign of Master Falmar." An-Paj commented in an amused tone of voice. "Did you get my request mixed up, or did you think that on failing to secure the correct person that any jedi would do, yes?" He bowed his head slightly out of respect for Evla. "Master Sovalla, it is always a pleasure to see you, even if your presence was unexpected." An-Paj ended his game by raising what almost seemed like a loaded eyebrow straight at his padawan. "Don't tease your apprentice. He had no part in this: I made him come back here." Evla bowed back in return; a subtle, acknowledging tilt of her head. "Sal-Fina's not in her rooms. Infact I'm almost certain that she and Ambianca are not within the temple enclave at this moment. Force alone knows when she'll be back." An-Paj winced at the bitter use of her words. There was no love lost between Evla and Sal-Fina, although in fairness the majority of the animosity lay purely with Master Falmar, for Evla was not the kind of person who held grudges. How could she when it went against the grain of crèche teaching? More than that it just wasn't in the woman's nature; yet something had rattled the usually unflappable Evla Sovalla. Intrigued, An-Paj determined to find out what it was. He looked over at his seemingly daydreaming padawan who was busy pretending to look into space whilst actively keeping one ear on the conversation. "Simeon." An-Pa motioned through the doorway with one antenna. "Could you leave us for a moment?" "But I wanted to ask how Jemmy was doing." Simeon's body took on the appearance of a deflated rubber cushion. "Sir?" "There will be plenty of time to ask such things. If you want to make yourself useful you can ask Ferdi if she needs any help." His lips softened into a smile. "Go on now." It was a reluctant Simeon who shuffled, round shouldered and dejected, out of An-Paj's office to leave Evla and An-Paj to converse in private. It was so unfair! He never got to do anything important. All he did was stick bacta plasters on knees or clean the freshers…or sometimes, if he were really, really lucky, he'd be allowed to mop the floors! Why, the closest he ever got to excitement or intrigue was when he was instructed to change the sheets on Quirida-Xac's bed: force knew you had to be prepared for anything then! Simeon felt certain that the day he was given his first leg to stitch up or first vertebra to heal with the force, the shock might very well kill him! And there was poor Jemmy, suffering and hurting, and he couldn't even help her. What kind of healer does that make me? Simeon loitered next to the door a moment, wondering if he might catch any snippet of conversation between his master and Evla. "It makes you a very nosey healer." An-Paj replied, breaking in on the boy's thoughts. "Now, I'll count to three and if you're still there I will show you where there's a mop, a bucket and a floor just crying out for cleaning…" Not surprisingly, Simeon was gone before the sentence was out of the healer's mouth - although this time An-Paj wasn't taking any chances and gently pushed the door shut with a gentle nudge of the force until he heard the lock activate. "Sorry about that." An-Paj sat back in his chair, indicating that Evla should likewise sit opposite him for her own comfort. "As you know, he's a good boy at heart. Very keen…a little too keen if you ask me." "Simeon's a treasure." Evla decided to remain tight-lipped regarding his earlier little rant outside Sal-Fina's apartment. The chances of his master thinking the padawan was a 'good boy at heart' on hearing the sentiments that had spilled forth from his mouth were very slim indeed. "You have indeed been blessed with your padawan. Sometimes it seems as if the force chooses people to be together, don't you think?" Evla asked him, placing a hand on the back of the chair but refusing as yet to sit down. "It's something I've been wondering about for a while now. How much is down to the will of the force?" "You're thinking of taking on another padawan?" An-Paj asked conversationally, wondering where the discourse was leading. "That is an excellent idea: and long overdue if I may say so!" Evla sighed. She hadn't been certain before…she'd felt all the time that the force was telling her to wait. She had no idea why when she'd all but made the decision to look for an apprentice but still something didn't seem quite right…not the way it had done with her first padawan. There was no gut feeling of certainty in her decision and frankly the sensation left Evla both baffled and troubled. Now at last she knew. "No." She shook her head with finality. "I'm not going to take another apprentice. I wanted to…I thought I was ready for the challenge but now I feel," she mused, considering her words, "that the force was trying to tell me something else. And I think I know what that is now." "You don't seem very happy, if I might be permitted to observe." An-Paj leaned forward slightly in his chair, frowning. Happy…was that the right word? Evla didn't think that it was. She'd wanted a padawan to teach the ways of the force, and to an extent she found herself feeling disappointed in the decision. But there were other challenges too: new challenges to be met and faced head on. Like Simeon, who wanted only to help but ultimately felt frustrated when handed a set of rubber gloves and a scourer instead of a scalpel and a set of tweezers, Evla wanted to feel useful…wanted to be of assistance to someone. Wasn't that what she was there for? Certainly she helped and cared for every youngster that entered the crèche but there was nothing to beat that feeling - that true bond - between master and padawan. I want to help…I want to help this girl of Qui-Gon's. I know that I can! Evla kept thinking to herself, over and over. I owe it to Qui-Gon for the affection that we once bore each other. It was one of the happiest times of my life and I'll never be able to thank him for the kindness he showed me when the whole galaxy around me seemed to be going…mad! I can do this thing…look after her until he comes back. "How is Jemmiah?" Evla asked out of the blue, taking An-Paj slightly aback by the bluntness of the question. "That's why I came here. How badly was she hurt?" An-Paj's smile became almost melancholic, instantly understanding. Something about Evla just couldn't stop caring no matter whether she was in or outside the crèche. And yes, it must be difficult to sit back and see a child go through torment and abuse when all her life the woman had surrounded herself by children who, with the exception of their force skills, were just like Jemmiah in most respects. Was she thinking of the child and looking all the time at her own crèche charges, wondering what fate awaited them all in the fullness of time? Or more intriguingly, was she thinking solely of Jemmiah herself…and of Qui-Gon Jinn? "I see what you are thinking." Evla shook her head. "I have - and do not wish to have - any claims on Qui-Gon. My relationship with him, what there was of one, was over many moons ago." She gave an ironic little snort of twisted laughter. "Sal-Fina saw to that!" "I heard that you were actually the one who broke up his relationship with Sal-Fina." An-Paj replied airily, who whilst not particularly caring for gossip remained a stickler for the truth. "Or does my memory play tricks on me these days?" Point, Evla conceded. But Qui-Gon's life with Sal-Fina had hit the rocks long before she, or Vernice Ashdal before her, had come into the man's life. They had been symptoms of the disintegrating relationship rather than the outright cause. At the time people had chosen not to see it that way, even if to this day the only person who still viewed the whole torrid triangle in that light was Sal-Fina herself. Sal-Fina, the promising jedi who had lost her way so badly…who had never forgotten…could not let go… "My past bears little relevance to the here and now." Evla folded her arms. "And at the moment my sole concern is Jemmiah. How is she?" "Conscious as of ten minutes ago." An-Paj watched as the woman's shoulders sagged with relief, noting the extent of her anxiety and remarking once again how strange it was that someone so 'uninvolved' in Qui-Gon's life should pay the girl any heed. "And mending. We have her swathed in bacta bandages at present, which helps greatly and gives her much relief, but I'm afraid she's pretty unresponsive, which means no visitors as of yet." Evla swallowed. "Has she sustained any permanent damage?" She wondered, dreading the healer's answer. What would Qui-Gon think? What was she to think, when she'd spent the evening before drumming into the girl the importance of staying away from darkened streets and alleyways deep in the heart of the city…it had been all so avoidable! That was the heartbreaking thing! "I'd venture to say not." Replied An-Paj, scratching idly at his chin. "But I think it's been an ordeal for her and she simply won't talk about it. We've asked her tentatively what she remembers about her attack but she won't speak. She understands what we're saying though, that much is obvious. It's just that the fight's been kicked out of her, literally, I'm afraid. But we'll have to be content only to treat her; the hows and whys of the case are no longer our concern. This is a serious assault and as such it's been reported to the Coruscant's Criminal Investigation Division." Evla's mouth dropped. "But just think how much that will scare her!" She protested. "Imagine all those people asking her questions when she can barely remember her name and where she lives!" "It's out of my hands," An-Paj gestured vacuously, "although I'll make certain that there's a healer there at all times when CCID arrive. Simeon tells me that she was brought in by a couple of Wookies." He added thoughtfully. "And that he felt certain he'd seen one of them before…working in a cantina someplace. Although why Simeon should know anything like that at his age I really don't want to know!" An-Paj's brow furrowed suspiciously. "It's a start at any rate. If we can track down the witness then CCID might be some way towards solving this pointless crime." "May the force be with us on that one!" Evla muttered vehemently. "They'll catch this person: I feel it in my bones. But whether they do or not, I am going to have a little word with Master Windu because I have something important to sort out with him that really should have been said a good few days ago!" "You do that!" Grinned An-Paj. "I'll do my best to sort out the mess at this end and you try and sort out the problem at yours. Somewhere between us," the Ossar threw her a wink, "we might just be in a position to do Qui-Gon Jinn and his young 'daughter' a bit of a favor…" Evla of course was as good as her pledge. The only misleading thing she'd said regarded the 'little word' she intended to have with Master Windu: the truth was she intended to have many, many more than a mere few. Mace could squirm and protest or more likely pull his council member routine and pretend the criticism washed right off without leaving any stink, but Evla would keep at him until she got some answers. What was more, she thought grimly, they had better damned good ones! Would any normal person leave their favorite speeder in charge of a joy rider to look after? Would a responsible individual let a known graffiti artist whitewash their walls? Or give an arsonist a cigara lighter as a present on finishing a five-year prison sentence for burning down a building? Of course not! So why would a man as (supposedly) intelligent as Mace do something as idiotic as leaving a young child recently taken in by Qui-Gon and place them in the care of a Jinn-hating Sal-Fina? Even if Jemmiah had said nothing directly to her regarding Master Falmar's treatment of her in the last day or so, Evla was prepared to wager some hefty amounts of money that Sal-Fina had increased her cold indifference in light of all the supper invites the girl had received. That was just the way Sal-Fina worked. What was probably worst of all, the woman might not have even realized there was anything wrong with her behavior, so thoughtless had she become to other people. Self centered, unfeeling lump of poison! Evla let her healer's robes swish against the floor as she walked, liking the noise it made: certainly she felt as agitated and unfriendly as the fabric sounded when in contact with the marble tiles! But I won't wish you any harm…I won't waste my breath or sully my mind with you. I have bigger fish to fry at the moment, one of which appears to be walking this way… She'd deliberately headed for the council chambers knowing that Mace would almost certainly be there - and sure enough there he was making some kind of escape; whether for a recess in proceedings or because the council's business had ended for the day, Evla did not know. Still, it was an ideal opportunity to grab the man before he managed to skip his way into the nearest turbo lift just as he usually did, lest Yoda or Yaddle hold him back with more discussions! She knew what Mace could be like. After a day of debate and endless conferring with his fellow jedi the man would be heading straight towards his equally uncomfortable and simplistic apartment where he could shut out the galaxy with constant research and reading. Well, Evla reasoned, there were less pleasant ways to spend your time, as Mace was about to find out… "Ahem." Evla coughed pointedly as Mace nearly walked past her. "Master Windu, might I have a word?" Mace looked over his shoulder, and on seeing no sign of Yoda in pursuit he allowed himself to relax fractionally, setting his face into a reasonably pleasant imitation of a smile. "Of course. How can I be of assistance?" He asked readily enough. Evla took hold of his arm in the exact forthright manner in which she had grabbed Simeon, pulling him along the vast open corridor lined with magnificent statues depicting the jedi of yesteryear. Mace opened his mouth to speak but Evla was clearly not in a mood to be gainsaid. That said, Mace wasn't too sure he liked being reduced to the undignified status of 'Grade A spectacle', especially as a group of astonished and delighted youngsters in padawan garb giggled at the sight of him being hauled away like a Nerf to the slaughter. "Where are we going…" Began Mace, wondering what exactly Evla had planned for him. "Not here. In the lift where nobody can hear us." She let go of his arm, walking stridently towards the elevator, nearly upsetting a leafy plant embedded in a ceramic base which stood on either side of the turbo lift door. Mace stood rubbing his arm for a moment, wondering if he'd ever rid himself of the sensation of Evla's fingers pressing firmly into his skin through layer upon layer of fabric. How did she do it, he wondered silently? It was the next thing to a gentle, reproving force swat to his behind! Not enough to cause pain but enough to make him feel subtly ashamed - and he hadn't even done anything! Or had he? Desperately he tried to wrack his brains for what he might have done to so upset the determined crèche master standing beside him, drumming her fingers impatiently against the wall as they waited. He decided to do a little light-hearted investigation. "It's been many a year since I've had a crèche master chasing around at the back of me. Infact it's been so long since I was a naughty initiate that I've almost forgotten what it's like." He joked, noting that Evla did not seem to find the same humor in the situation that he did. Something serious, then? Had he forgotten to return a book chip to the crèche carers when he'd been a child, and they'd somehow found out after all the years that had passed? "Then allow me to refresh your memory." Evla gestured at the door as it slid open, ushering the man in before her. "After you." "Making sure I don't escape?" Wondered Mace outloud. "Don't worry. I won't resist arrest!" He held up his hands and marched right up to the back of the wall, waiting until the lift doors closed again to shut them in before he turned around. The look Evla gave him would have stopped a bolt from a blaster in its tracks. "You can dispense with the attempt at humor, Mace." Evla dropped the formality and cut straight to the point. "I'm here on a very serious and disturbing matter and I'm afraid that you are right at the heart of it!" "Me?" Mace looked genuinely shocked. "What can I possibly have done to cause such distress?" Evla leaned heavily against the lift wall, eyeing him distastefully, not so much as blinking. "I've just come from the infirmary." Evla folded her arms. "Where they've brought Qui-Gon's young ward in on a stretcher. Beaten up, left for dead and lying in a dingy back street somewhere." She paused long enough to see the puzzlement turn to revulsion, then somber regret: at least he felt something. "Now, I want you to imagine how Qui-Gon's going to feel when he comes back and finds out how well his child's been taken care of. Can you imagine the remorse he's going to feel just because he wasn't there to help? Most of all," Evla lowered her voice purposefully to a silky-smooth knife edge, "can you imagine what he's going to say when he finds out precisely who you left her with?" Mace exhaled deeply, collecting his thoughts. This was going to be a very difficult thing to explain, especially as he didn't fully understand it himself. Nonetheless it fell to him to try. "How is the girl?" He asked firmly. "Is she badly hurt?" "An-Paj assures me that she will recover fully. But right now she's probably lying there wondering what she has to do in order to get a break from all the terrible things that keep happening to her, feeling totally alone because there's no Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan to reassure her and most of all wondering why there's going to be no visit from Sal-Fina!" As Mace flinched Evla could finally see she had gotten her point across. "She's not there! Force knows where she is…or what time she'll be back. But Jemmiah's assured me in the past that this is typical behavior for Sal-Fina. Mace, this is the straw that broke the Rancor's back! To use colorful Corellian terminology, you've stuffed up!" Mace sighed. "Evla…" "WHY did you insist on putting that poor girl with that ghastly excuse for a jedi? You know what she's like about Qui-Gon! Didn't you see she'd resent having anything to do with him? She probably feels that people who know about their past together are laughing at the fact she's having to look after what is, in the eyes of the law, his own child! For over a week now," Evla was trying desperately hard to remain calm whilst thinking over the multitude of Sal-Fina's misdemeanors which Jemmiah had brought to her attention, "I've listened to that girl pour her heart out to me about the terrible way she's been treated. Locked out when she needs to get in and finish her school assignments! Shut in when she needs to go out! Made to do Sal-Fina's housework whilst Ambianca sits idly by and does nothing! Pushed onto the streets and told to fend for herself because Sal-Fina's got 'guests' around! I found her wandering in the city the other day," her chin trembled fractionally at the memory, "soaked to the skin amidst the worst rainstorm Coruscant's seen in decades, because Sal-Fina had sent her to fetch groceries she could have purchased from the temple! And I'm telling you, it was a good thing I was there because there are some very unpleasant characters on the streets…as that poor child's unfortunately found out first hand." Her tirade finished, Evla sank back against the turbo lift wall feeling totally exhausted. She wasn't used to venting her spleen in such a way, and on those rare occasions she was always left feeling totally drained of all energy. The rant might well have been directed at Mace but the true barb of her remarks had been reserved for Sal-Fina, something that Mace would be only too well aware of. Now, as the man who had managed to cause the mess it was down to him to fix it. "So, I'm asking you again, if you can," pleaded Evla in a wearisome voice, "tell me why you placed Jemmiah with Sal-Fina? Because I'll by damned if I understand it." Mace closed his eyes for a moment before allowing himself to look Evla directly in the eye. He didn't like being put on the spot like this, but the woman did deserve an answer. "I am truly sorry for what Jemmiah has been through." Mace held up his hand in guilty admission. "I had no idea that Sal-Fina would be so cold to another individual. I had hoped that this might be a chance to patch up the quarrel between both she and Qui-Gon, which you will allow has gone on far too long. It looks as if I was very wrong." "Mace, only Qui-Gon and Sal-Fina can patch up their differences. Nobody can do it for them, especially not a child who Sal-Fina views as an irritant and an imposition! And Jemmiah doesn't deserve such horrible treatment from anybody in the temple. Do you know that she told me recently that she has no friends her own age? Can you imagine how terrible that must be for a ten-year-old child? Qui-Gon is not just her parental figure but her companion too, as is Obi-Wan. Neither of them are here - it's unfortunate but that can't be helped. You know, it's bad enough being friendless amongst a temple full of thousands upon thousands of beings who treat you like you don't exist, but to have enemies as well…" "Very well." Mace conceded her point with a bow. "I am not indifferent to your words, Evla. I will see that Sal-Fina is censured for her behavior…" "No, that's not what I want." Evla stepped in so quickly that she almost managed to surprise herself. "I'm not after revenge, not even against Sal-Fina. I don't want it said that I bear grudges. I'll leave it up to Jemmiah to decide if she wants to see Sal-Fina brought to task." "Then what do you want?" Mace asked curiously. "I want Jemmiah moved somewhere else, where she can get peace to recover: there's no way she can go back there after what she's been through. The girl needs someone who has time to spare and cares enough to give it!" Evla found herself attempting to stand as tall as she possibly could. "In short, I want the council to consider allowing Jemmiah to stay with me until either Qui-Gon or G'emela returns." Mace didn't appear surprised, nor did he say anything that gave away his own opinions on the matter, but Evla decided that she needed to make one final effort to get him to understand, if he didn't already. "Qui-Gon is your friend…Jemmiah is Qui-Gon's 'daughter'. This is your chance to do something really, really good for both of them. If you don't," she let her words hang threateningly in the air; "there's a very good chance that you'll lose Qui-Gon's friendship forever." |
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