| It takes one to know one by Jemmiah |
| "Did you hear what I said, Master Windu?" Mace didn't have to see her face to know that G'emela was very, very irritated. Her words, clipped and polite as they were, held all the pleasantry of a vibro blade whizzing straight towards him, and even although he was a good few years senior to the knight, Mace had to admit that there was something about her strident, forthright manner that made him wince every time she addressed him. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone. The master sighed, closing his eyes. The unexpected planetary coup on Klowda had initially seemed like as good an opportunity as any to get G'emela back to Coruscant, but things had taken a frustrating turn for the worse. Power failures had knocked out all the booster satellites making it virtually impossible to get a message off the planet, leaving the council initially unaware as to the situation. Several days later things were slowly beginning to get back to normal… Save for an unexpected and unfortunate turn of events that not even Yoda could have foreseen. Already he had the makings of a scale 12 headache, the sort that previously only his former padawan Nat Kendal could inflict upon him, so he had thought. He pressed two fingers against his temple as if to combat the building hammering therein, determined not to lose sight of the problem. This problem had a name: G'emela Lothric. "Knight Lothric," Mace answered, raising his voice automatically as if it would somehow compensate for the loss of holovisuals, "Are you telling me that you cannot get off the planet, is that it?" "Master Windu, I'll repeat exactly what I said the first time." Again the preciseness of G'emela's words left Mace feeling as if he were a child, or an idiot, or some kind of vegetable. "I am confined to bed in an infirmary. At present I am still combing fresh bacta out of my hair and I may be here for a few weeks because nobody is allowed to leave the planet at present. I was lucky to get this message out as it is: they've only just started to get things working again. That's why there are no visuals…" "I know, so you said." Mace pondered the problem, not liking the probable outcome one little bit. He'd been pressing hard for Qui-Gon and his padawan to be given a suitable assignment the last few weeks, simply because it was time. There was only so long that the council could hold off sending them from Coruscant: the pair of them were simply too valuable diplomatically to let drag their heels in the capital for too long. Yes, he was genuinely sorry that it would temporarily take them away from Jemmiah, but Qui-Gon had accepted this would happen from the start. It had been an unwritten condition in the council's agreement in letting the Corellian stay. It was unfortunate from Jemmiah's point of view - but this was not the time to start changing plans. The council had made the decision and so, whatever else cropped up to throw a hydro-spanner in the works, nothing was going to change and that included the decision to send Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan on the mission. "Master Windu - are you still there?" G'emela asked with disturbing agreeableness. "I was just thinking." Mace replied with equal courtesy. "That there's no point in your rushing to get back when there's little that can be done about the situation on Klowda. Just keep your head down…" "What about Qui-Gon?" G'emela demanded, her voice deepening menacingly. "What about him?" "You have to call of his mission and find someone else to step in! I can't come back, and I can't imagine Qui-Gon will want just anybody looking after child. You know what he's like about such things." Again the subtle warning, reminding Mace that Qui-Gon would be deeply unhappy were he not recalled, even at the last moment. "He has a duty to the jedi…" Mace pointed out reasonably. "He has a duty to the girl, too." G'emela's voice answered him with typical bluff abruptness. "In which he has my total support, for the little my opinion's worth. A pity," she stated after a brief moment's reflection, "because I was quite intrigued by the notion of finding out more about her." Suddenly her manner became brusque and businesslike, causing Mace to flinch just fractionally. "Master - you HAVE to tell Master Jinn he's been taken off this mission. Why not send Master Berlingside," Mace could almost imagine the distasteful curl of her lip as she mentioned his name, "because I'm sure he's got nothing better to do." Mace opened his mouth to offer a rebuke - but then closed it again. G'emela did have a point: Dex was never particularly keen on long-distance travelling. If there was the slightest chance of being given something closer to home then the man would jump at the opportunity. Anything further afield and his enthusiasm tended to wane just a little. "I'm afraid that Master Berlingside's taste for adventure got well and truly put through the masher that time they executed him. Understandable, up to a point." Mace grunted, surprised that he was actually sticking up for the man. "I thought Jedi weren't supposed to seek adventure and excitement." G'emela countered with assured coolness. "Master Windu, forgive me if I seem to show a lack of courtesy. I'm tired and I need to rest up. But please," she added - almost begging him, so it seemed to Mace - "recall Qui-Gon and his padawan. Don't leave the little girl in the lurch." Mace took a deep breath, thinking furiously. "I'll make sure that what needs to be done is done." He promised, smiling even though she couldn't see him, hoping it would lighten the tone of his voice and convince him of his sincerity. For G'emela's part, she seemed to believe him, for Mace was almost certain he had detected the slightest sigh of relief over the static-filled transmission. So much the better then. He would stick to what he had said. A promise was a promise, after all. "I'll report back when I get the chance then." G'emela continued, pausing briefly to add: "Oh, and thank you very much for inquiring after my health. Knight Lothric out." "That's okay…" Mace began when the transmission suddenly cut off. Too late he understood: sarcasm. He hadn't actually asked how she was faring… Mace shook his head, baffled at how two such different people as Qui-Gon and G'emela could have made for such an effective master and padawan team. Not that it mattered: there were far more pressing matters to think of - such as what he was going to do about the Jemmiah situation. No doubt Qui-Gon would indeed like to be given the option of passing the mission over to another in favor of staying with the child, but did it really matter? Sooner or later the situation would have occurred. What was so different about this time? He'd promised to do what needed to be done, but that wasn't necessarily the same as from G'emela's point of view. As Mace saw it, he had a duty to make sure that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan left as planned. But what was he to do about Jemmiah? It would fall to him to insure that Jemmiah was taken care of, which was only right. But by whom? He hadn't exactly seen a long queue of volunteers the first time round when G'emela's name had been first mentioned. There was one intriguing possibility, but it might be better to make sure that Qui-Gon was safely off the planet before he even considered chasing up that particular possibility. Still, if it worked… The dark-skinned master glanced down at his wrist chrono. Qui-Gon would be leaving in just over an hour. Once they were onboard it would be out of the council's hands… Two round, soulful, saucer eyes regarded Qui-Gon with concern, apprehensively watching his every move from over the rim of her Nigel Nerf emblazoned mug. If it hadn't been for the current, rather pressing circumstances, the master might well have felt flattered by the attention being lavished upon him. Instead Qui-Gon could only sigh - the whole situation was far more complicated than he had ever imagined it might be. He hadn't wanted to make a big deal of the fact they were leaving because, inevitably, it was something that Jemmiah would have to get used to in time. Instead he'd treated the day as if it were any other; as if he were simply going out of the temple for a walk or heading out into the city to meet with a friend. The less fuss he made, the better it would be for everybody. Not to mention his feeling less guilty when it was time to depart. The master glanced at the wall chrono. Departure time was barely ten minutes away. "Aren't you going to eat something?" Jemmiah wondered, completely at a loss for what to say or do. "It's bad to go off on a mission on an empty stomach. I mean, it's bound to be…" She added helplessly, hoping that it didn't seem like she were trying to invent ways to keep them from leaving. Even if it were true. Qui-Gon smiled reassuringly. "Obi-Wan and I both ate shortly after we awakened." He replied, not really wanting to explain the reasoning behind that decision. The truth was that he hadn't wanted the affair to seem like some doom-laden last supper, where Jemmiah would sit, no doubt wondering if this was to be their final meal together. Far better instead to resort to surprise, and a small but significant break in their morning routine. He watched her puzzlement turn to suspicion, and although convinced she could not detect the motive behind his actions, Qui-Gon felt certain Jemmiah knew there had to be an ulterior motive. After all, how often had he told her that her never did anything without good reason? He could all but hear the cogs turning in her mind, trying to work out what that reason might be. "Why didn't you wake me, too?" Jemmiah's chin jutted belligerently as she pouted back at him. "Because…" He tried to make his reasoning sound credible. "You've been unwell and I felt you could do with some extra sleep. You're surely not complaining, are you?" Confusion replaced the suspicion. "No, but…" "Most people would be glad of a lie-in every now and again. Is that not so, padawan?" "Tell me about it." Obi-Wan's relaxed smile demonstratively informed his master the young man was looking forward to their latest assignment, and that he wasn't in the least bit put out by their early start. "There, you see? Now," Qui-Gon continued in the hope of distracting her further, "Vernice will look after you today but she'll have to leave tomorrow on a mission of her own. G'emela should arrive some time this evening but if there's a delay for some reason then stay with Master Berlingside until she turns up, understood?" He could see Jemmiah nodding deprecatingly, humoring him. She'd heard it at least four times before, but each time he'd repeated the information in hope of making sure it sunk in. That way he might be able to leave safe in the knowledge that she would be well looked after… "Good." He glanced across at Obi-Wan who had gone out onto the balcony, either to get some fresh air or merely to be left alone with his thoughts. Perhaps he had decided to remove himself for a while to allow his master some time to clear things up with Jemmiah. Or maybe, simply, the whole thing had gotten too much for him. Qui-Gon didn't think so, however. Over the last few months he had detected an increased level of maturity about his padawan, culminating in the extraordinary offer he had made the evening before to take care of Jemmy should anything happen to his master. For a while Jinn said nothing, merely observing his padawan's attempts to focus his mind through the breathing exercises they'd oft practiced. Yes, the boy was slowly showing signs of becoming a man. Qui-Gon knew he would do well to remember it. He let his mind come back to his conversation with Jemmiah. "Good, that seems to have covered most areas…" "Are you sure I can't do something?" Jemmy begged him, uncertainty beginning to claw at her once more. Always, whenever she felt unsure of herself, the Corellian girl would fall back on her lifeline of slavery and the certainty contained within the routine of drudgery and finger-blunting hard work. Qui-Gon shook his head, exasperated. As long as she was occupied and busy, be it preparing meals, washing dishes or gathering laundry, it would take her mind off less pleasant goings on around her. But Jemmiah, who it seemed has spent her young life running away from the truth, always pushing it aside, had to be made to see that reality must be faced somewhere down the line, no matter how distasteful or distressing. Seeking solace in scrubbing cutlery and making beds should - would be - a thing of the past if he had anything to do with it. All such thoughts on Jemmiah's behavioral quirks would have to wait until their return. Force willing, he added mentally, for just as Obi-Wan had reminded him last evening, there was nothing set in stone. Whilst he had a reasonable expectation of coming out of it all in one piece there remained that nagging question: What if? "I'm afraid that everything's already been done that needs doing." Answered the master in a kindly tone, aware that she kept glancing nervously towards the chrono on the wall as if willing the numbers to freeze in their tracks. He fixed two brilliant-blue eyes upon her pinched face, letting her know that she was the sole focus of his attention. "Don't be scared." He said softly. That seemed to do the trick. "I'm not scared." Jemmiah growled back at him. "WhaddayathinkIam? A baby?" "Then there should be no problems then." Qui-Gon's smile betrayed a little of his sly amusement at her outburst, yet at the same time he focused rigidly upon her, looking for any tell-tale sign of fear. To her credit the Corellian mask of bravado didn't so much as slip once out of place, revealing not so much of a glimmer of the anxiety Qui-Gon knew to exist deep down within her. "Please be considerate towards G'emela…" "I will!" "She'll try her best to take care of you but remember, she's doing this for your benefit. So don't judge her before you get to know her." Jinn raised an oblique eyebrow, letting her know exactly where she stood: he was perfectly well aware of how she had virtually made her mind up to dislike his former padawan from the start. "Please do as she says. Pay attention to her - and above all else go to bed when she tells you?" He pleaded, thinking upon the one problem he'd encountered many times over the last few months. "You make me sound like a little kid." Jemmy sniffed, putting down her empty mug and folding her arms defiantly across her chest. "Well, surely that is because you are." Qui-Gon replied levelly. "You are ten years of age. If I treat you like a child then it is because your years demand it." "Nobody listens to kids." Jemmiah muttered under her breath. "It's like we don't get a say, coz we’re too young to know our own minds." "Jemmiah," Qui-Gon chuckled bemusedly, "at ten, your experiences of the galaxy are limited. As such, an adult who has at least been around long enough," he pointed at his own chest by way of a demonstration, "will assuredly be in a better position to know what is best." This time the expression turned sulky. How dare he lecture her about experience of the galaxy when she had seen more in her ten, insignificant years than half the jedi in the temple, with their narrow minds and closed, inflexible way of life! One thing that Nargotria had taught her only too well was to keep her head down and observe at all times, but now that she had been given a taste of freedom at long last, she wanted to participate! She was fed up with observation: sitting on the sidelines was not an option any more. If it wasn't for the threat of Rufus… Merdan or no Merdan, even if she could understand why Qui-Gon was doing it Jemmiah was equally determined he would not keep her from growing up. She couldn't stay a kid forever! How did he view her, she wondered? As a person, or as some kind of tamed pet in a cage? But how could she ever go against him when she cared about him so much? "That's fine and well," Jemmy groused, "but how am I supposed to get any of the experience that will make me an knowledgeable, experienced being when you won't let me do anything?" Far from feeling annoyed at her outburst, Qui-Gon felt an odd sort of pride. He merely picked up her mug from the table and walked over to the kitchen, placing it carefully inside the washing basin within the sink. She was so keen to grow up, already chaffing under rules that she was barely old enough to understand, whatever she may think. Somehow the idea of following the additional rules that G'emela - an interloper - would no doubt impose had started to bring all her frustrations to a head. Ironically, now when he felt most inclined to discuss her anxieties there was simply no time to do so. "That is an age-old paradox, Tangles." Answered Qui-Gon, filling the mug with water. "I mean what I say. Please behave well - because you may depend upon it that I will get to hear of any misdemeanors when I get back!" "If you get back." Jemmiah mumbled despondently at the floor. She was saved from further interrogation only by the fortuitous arrival of Master Ashdal, whose sounding of the door chime all but had Jemmiah's heart stop through panic. Dry mouthed, she watched as Qui-Gon went to open the door. So, this was it. The moment she had been dreading ever since he'd told her they were going. The first time they'd have been parted since she'd moved to Coruscant. It's silly, she rebuked herself, hoping that she wasn't getting visibly worked up, concentrating hard on making sure her hands didn't shake. Such a silly thing to get upset over. You've got to try and see this as…an adventure! Yes, that's it. Maybe it'll be fun…then again, is that likely? On your own with only G'emela for company, and Sophie threatening to turn you into paste? This is awful! See what happens when you allow yourself to get attached to people? These jedi have it right, after all! No wonder they're all so distant. It hurts so much to say goodbye…have I learned nothing? Everybody leaves me, they always do! They'll get killed for certain, I know it! And it'll be my fault! She heard Obi-Wan's footsteps behind her and turned around to face him, her eyes blazing vehemently even although the once confident facade felt as if it were about to irretrievably crumble. "You'd better look after him!" She warned, hugging the padawan firmly around the middle. "Look after him? What about me?" Obi-Wan looked mildly disappointed. "Don’t you want me to come back in one piece?" "Ben, I trust you. You're a normal jedi. A bit careless sometimes," she shrugged to show that it didn't matter at all to her what he was like, "but normal all the same." "Thanks," Obi-Wan said dryly, "I think." "But Master J's not normal. He does things in ways that most jedi wouldn't, and I'm thinking that it's gonna get him zapped if someone doesn't keep an eye on him. And as his padawan, that person is you." Why, wondered Jemmiah, did he seem to be enjoying her impassioned, from-the-heart speech like it was some kind of joke? Didn't he know that she meant every word? What did she have to do to be taken seriously? "Master Berlingside told me that Quiggy's a maverick. Now," she put both hands on her hips to show she meant business, "I've no idea what that means - but it sure doesn't sound good to me! So I need you to promise me that you'll make certain he doesn't do too much of whatever it is that makes him one." Jemmy finished up with a guilty blush. "I will. For you." Obi-Wan bowed, still smiling, reluctantly walking a few paces to the door, shuffling sideways as if it might somehow prolong the journey. Pause. "Oh, and Ben?" "Yes?" "Take care of yourself while you're at it." Obi-Wan rewarded her this time with a full-blown grin that would have lit up the sky were it still dark. Watching him, Jemmy felt her whole body suddenly turn heavy and leaden. How long would they be gone? It seemed unbearable…unthinkable…and yet it was happening. Was she looking at days or weeks? Perhaps months? Would it be forever? "You can go with Master Jinn and Obi-Wan to the launch pad." Vernice offered, her mouth turned down at the corners in a show of sympathy for the girl's sorrow. "No, I'll say goodbye here, thanks." Jemmy almost cut her words dead. "The pilot won't want any visible delays." She hesitated, finally allowing herself to catch Qui-Gon's eye. Now what was she going to say? 'Goodbye, Master Jinn, I hope you don't get killed?' She didn't think that sounded very tactful… "Take care." Qui-Gon placed a fatherly hand upon her shoulder, letting her feel the comforting weight behind the gesture. "I'd be much obliged if you'd water my plants whilst we are away? Please?" He added, hoping that she would rise to the task she'd been given, seeing as how it was something rather close to his heart. He awaited her answer in silence for a moment, until finally Jemmiah nodded her head in confirmation. "Sure, no problem." She shrugged slightly. "If you would rather they were killed by kindness rather than left to fry, then fine…" "Thank you, Tangles." He gave a slight inclination of his head, acknowledging her agreement with gratitude. "Oh, and one final thing." He waited until he and Obi-Wan were almost out of the door way. "What?" She frowned. Qui-Gon gazed back at her. "Don't worry!" He repeated, treating her to a rare wink before finally allowing himself - after one final long look around the apartment - to step out through the door, herding his padawan before him. After it had closed, cutting both Obi-Wan and himself off from her sight, Jemmiah was left to reflect that she couldn't ever recall having felt so utterly alone at any time since the death of her mother. Was it possible for a room to feel so…empty? Vernice, seemingly understanding her feelings, stood supportively beside her shoulder whilst Jemmy continued to stare blankly ahead at the space where Master Jinn and his padawan had once stood. "Don't worry?" Jemmy spat heatedly. "When it's just you and Ben against the galaxy? Fat chance!" |
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