Star Wars

Jedi Apprentice

#4 The Mark of the Crown

by  Jude Watson

As soon as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn stepped off the departure ramp

of their transport onto the planet of Gala, a cloud car purred to  a  stop  at

their feet.

The door opened noiselessly. A ramp slid down. A driver dressed in a navy

tunic and pants scrambled out, then waited by the open door.  Inside,  Obi-Wan

glimpsed a luxurious interior.

"Queen Veda has sent her personal transport for  the  Jedi,"  the  driver

announced.

"Please thank the Queen for her hospitality," Qui-Gon said with  a  small

bow. "It is such a fine day. We prefer to walk to the palace."

The driver looked startled. "But the Queen instructed me to-"

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said firmly, and walked past the driver.

Obi-Wan followed his Master. He knew that the weather had nothing  to  do

with why Qui-Gon had decided to walk. A Jedi mission began the moment a Jedi's

feet touched the surface of a new planet. Every sense he or she had was to  be

focused on the surroundings. Attunement to  sight,  smell,  sound,  and  touch

helped to bring the Force to bear. It was said that some  Jedi  Masters  could

see all the way to the end of a mission just by taking a few short steps on  a

new world.

Thirteen-year-old Obi-Wan wasn't a Master - or even a Jedi Knight -  yet.

As an apprentice, he had a long journey ahead. But even  an  apprentice  could

feel the dark tremors rippling under the calm surface  of  Galu,  the  capital

city of Gala. Obi-Wan couldn't see to the end of the  mission,  but  he  could

already sense that success would be hard-won, and far from assured.

They exited the spaceport and entered the wide boulevards  of  the  city.

Galu was a city built on three hills. On top  of  the  tallest  hill  was  the

gleaming white palace, visible from any point on the city streets.

Gala had once been a prosperous planet, the jewel of its system. It still

had its share of rich citizens, but the gap  between  those  with  wealth  and

those without was wide. Even as cloud cars almost as luxurious as the  Queen's

hummed by, beggars groveled for credits and food on the city streets.

Obi-Wan had been to Galu on his last mission. He  had  already  seen  the

decay behind the once-grand buildings. The stone was  chipped  and  weathered,

and had not been restored. Graceful lindemor trees had once bloomed along  the

wide boulevards, but now they stood abandoned, dead, and  twisted,  rising  up

from the ground like clawing fingers.

"The Queen has made the right decision," Qui-Gon remarked.

"Elections should stabilize the planet. It is time for democracy to  come

to Gala."

"Past time, it seems to me," Obi-Wan agreed. "Why do you think Queen Veda

made the decision now?"

"There was great danger of a civil war here," Qui-Gon said.  "The  Tallah

dynasty has ruled for a thousand years. They were successful at one time.  But

power can corrupt. After King Cana died, the Queen knew that the power of  the

monarchy was slipping. She gave in to  the  people's  wishes  and  opened  the

government to elections."

"Which is why her son, Prince Beju, may be dangerous," Obi-Wan said. "How

do you think the Prince will react when he sees us?"

Just days ago, the Jedi had thwarted the Prince's scheme to become a hero

to the Galacian people. Prince Beju had caused a bacta shortage on Gala. Bacta

was a substance  used  to  heal  wounds  and  regenerate  damaged  flesh.  Its

miraculous properties saved lives. After he'd created the fake  shortage,  the

Prince had made an agreement with the Syndicat, an illegal political group  on

neighboring Phindar, to bring some of their bacta home with him.  Obi-Wan  had

foiled the plan by posing as the Prince and helping Phindar's citizens  remove

the Syndicat from power.

"I don't think he'll greet me with open arms," Obi-Wan continued.

"After all, I did kidnap him."

"He has much to lose if he opposes us," Qui-Gon pointed  out.  "He  might

have had help with that bacta scheme, but I'm fairly certain  it  wasn't  from

Queen Veda. If we keep silent about what we know happened on Phindar, no doubt

the Prince will as well."

"Good," Obi-Wan said.

"But he will still see us as the enemy," Qui-Gon added.

Inwardly, Obi-Wan gave a sigh. Qui-Gon often told  him  reassuring  news,

only to contradict it in the next sentence. It was his way of telling  Obi-Wan

that situations were not fixed, but fluid.

"Count on nothing. Only change," Qui-Gon had told him several  times.  He

was always right

Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt a disturbance in the Force like a dark wave.

"Yes," Qui-Gon murmured.

They stopped for a moment. The street they had turned down was  deserted.

And then they heard the sound of shouting.

They moved together, without speaking,  toward  the  sound.  Neither  one

reached for his lightsaber, or even rested a hand on the hilt.

But every nerve was poised, on alert.

Suddenly, a crowd surged around a corner, heading for them. They  carried

laser-pulsating signs that spelled out DECA.

Obi-Wan relaxed. It was a political rally, he realized. Deca Brun was one

of the candidates for Governor of Gala.

"Already democracy is working," he observed. The people  cheered  as  the

laser sign flashed gold, then blue.

Qui-Gon was still alert. "Something else," he murmured. He turned to look

back.

From an intersecting narrow street behind them,  another  crowd  suddenly

spilled onto the boulevard. They bore signs reading WILA PRAMMI.

"Wila Prammi, the third candidate," Obi-Wan noted. Yoda had  briefed  the

Jedi on the two candidates opposing Prince Beju.

The Deca Brun crowd surged forward, and the Prammi supporters ran to meet

them. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were caught in the middle. All of  a  sudden,  signs

were used as clubs, and fists and feet flew as the two  groups  attacked  each

other.

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon. This was not a time for  lightsabers.  Neither

of the two groups had blast weapons. But still, the Jedi were in danger.  They

were in the middle of a brawling mob.

A burly Galacian man holding a laser sign suddenly lunged at Obi-Wan, his

sign held high. Leading with his left shoulder, Obi-Wan went into a  roll.  He

sprang to his feet only meters away as the sign  glanced  off  someone  else's

shoulder.

Two Deca supporters held Qui-Gon's arms as a third pulled a fist back  to

strike him. Qui-Gon employed a classic Jedi  escape  technique,  twisting  his

body and striking upward with his head. The two Deca supporters were left with

sore arms and ringing ears. They looked around for Qui-Gon, but he was already

gone, heading for Obi-Wan at the sidelines.

"We can't do anything here," he told Obi-Wan. "Let's keep moving."

They dodged a Wila Prammi supporter as she tripped a Deca supporter, then

smashed him on the head. "The road to democracy can be a rough  one,"  Qui-Gon

observed as they hurried past. "But on Gala, it seems rougher than most."

The Grand Palace of Gala rose before them, an impressive, sprawling white

building with two tall towers. Surrounding the windows and inlaid in the tower

spires were sparkling blue azurite crystals and gems in mosaic  patterns.  The

roof was gilded.

Together the gold roof and glittering mosaics made the palace shimmer, as

if it weren't quite real.

The Jedi were led through vast hallways  to  the  receiving  room,  where

Queen Veda waited. She was dressed in a gown of shimmersilk that  appeared  to

change color when she moved. Different shades of blue and green were  sewn  in

fluttering panels that appeared and disappeared as she walked forward to greet

them. Her gold headdress was studded with blue and green crystals.

Qui-Gon barely made note of her elegant dress. He was shocked to feel her

living Force. Or rather to not feel it. It was so dim. The Queen was  only  in

middle age, yet he sensed a serious disturbance, as if she were extremely ill,

or dying.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bowed their greeting.

"I welcome the Jedi to Gala," the Queen said. Her voice still  rang  with

firm authority. Qui-Gon wondered if she had  gathered  her  strength  for  the

meeting, wanting to appear well. Gala-cians were known for  their  distinctive

pale skin, a bluish tone they called "moonlight." But the Queen's skin was not

luminous, but an unhealthy-looking color reminiscent of bone.

"We have brought a shipment of bacta as a gift," Qui-Gon told her.

"We left it at the spaceport loading dock."

"It is desperately needed here," the Queen  answered.  "Thank  you.  I'll

arrange to have it distributed to the med centers."

Qui-Gon watched her face carefully. He read only relief and gratitude  in

her pale blue eyes, the color of ice shadows.  She  gave  no  indication  that

she'd heard even a whisper about Prince Beju's plan.

Still puzzled about her health,  Qui-Gon  studied  her  the  way  a  Jedi

studies, without seeming to stare. He was surprised when she  boldly  captured

his gaze, her sharp eyes knowing.

"Yes," she said softly. "You are right. I am dying."

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's start of surprise next to him. He knew the boy had

not noticed the Queen's illness. Obi-Wan had excellent instincts, but often he

lacked a connection to the living Force.

"My condition simplifies meetings such as this,"  Queen  Veda  continued,

waving a jeweled hand. "I can be direct, and I hope you will be the same."

"We are always direct," Qui-Gon answered.

Queen Veda nodded. She lowered herself into a gilded chair  and  gestured

for the Jedi to do so as well.

"I have thought a great deal about what I  wish  to  leave  behind,"  she

began. "Gala needs to be a democracy. The people have asked for it, and I have

granted it as my last act as Queen. That will be my  legacy.  There  is  great

unrest here in the city, and in the countryside. My husband, King Cana,  ruled

for thirty years. His intentions were good, but corruption invaded our council

of ministers and the governors of the  surrounding  provinces.  A  handful  of

powerful families controlled the high posts. My husband was not able  to  stop

it. Now I am afraid of civil war. The only thing that can prevent it  will  be

free elections. So you see why I have asked for Jedi monitoring."

Qui-Gon nodded. "What do you foresee as problems we might encounter?"  he

asked carefully. He didn't want to bring up Prince Beju. He wanted  the  Queen

to introduce the topic. That would tell him where her sympathies resided.

"My son, Beju," she said flatly. "The last in line of  the  great  Tallah

dynasty - a fact he does not let you forget for a moment. All his life he  has

waited to rule Gala. He has not forgiven me for calling elections. He will  be

some trouble for you, I'm afraid. If he wins the election, he will retain  the

monarchy." She shrugged. "He has some support. But what he cannot inspire,  he

will buy or steal, I'm afraid."

Qui-Gon nodded, trying not to show his surprise  at  the  mother's  harsh

words about her son.

"I will not oppose my son," Queen Veda continued. "It is true  that  I've

denied him his birthright. I owe him my loyalty  at  least.  I  won't  endorse

another candidate publicly. But privately, I wish my son to lose.  It  is  not

only best for Gala. It is best for Beju.  I  wish  him  to  become  a  private

citizen, to be rid of all this." She waved her hand to  take  in  the  immense

chamber. "I saw what this power did to my husband.

It corrupted him, and he was a good man. I do not  want  to  see  my  son

suffer the same fate. He's only sixteen. He will understand in time  why  I've

done this. He is also my legacy," Queen Veda finished softly. "I wish to leave

behind a son with a life that is good."

"Do you think he has a chance to win?" Qui-Gon asked.

The Queen frowned. "There is still a core  of  royalist  supporters.  The

Prince has been secluded for much of his life, since we feared for his safety.

He was even schooled off-planet. Not much is known about  him,  and  that  can

work in his favor. He might be able to squeak by. I do hope not."

Queen Veda smiled at Qui-Gon. "You are surprised at my honesty. When time

runs out, you don't waste it by fooling yourself."

"What about the other candidates, Deca Brun  and  Wila  Prammi?"  Obi-Wan

asked. "Is there a favorite?"

"Deca Brun is favored," Queen Veda answered. "He's a hero to the Galacian

people. He promises them reform and prosperity. It won't be that easy, but  he

makes it sound so."

"And Wila Prammi?" Qui-Gon prompted.

"She has more experience," the Queen replied. "She was  an  underminister

here  at  the  palace.  Her  ideas  are  sound  and   grounded   in   reality.

Unfortunately, her palace experience hurts  her  in  some  quarters,  and  her

bluntness hurts her in others. She has her faction, but is expected to lose."

"Were you anticipating  violence?"  Qui-Gon  asked.  "We  ran  into  some

supporters on the street. Tempers are running high."

"Yes, there have been clashes," the Queen admitted. "But  I  believe  the

people want a peaceful transition. As long as  they  feel  the  elections  are

honest, they won't revolt, I hope."

Queen Veda sat silently for a moment. Qui-Gon wondered if she was fading.

Then he realized that she was gathering herself to say something. He knew that

what she would tell them next was the real reason she had summoned them  here.

He glanced at Obi-Wan to make sure the boy would wait for the Queen to  speak.

Obi-Wan nodded.

"There is a wild card," the Queen said at last. "Another factor  that  is

important for you to understand. Elan."

"Elan?" Qui-Gon had not heard this name before.

"There is a faction of Galacians known as the hill  people,"  Queen  Veda

explained. She smoothed the tiled mosaic of the table in front of  her  and  a

piece of blue azurite came off in her hand. She rolled it  in  her  palm,  her

rings flashing in the sunlight that poured  through  the  window  behind  her.

"Elan is their leader. The hill people are exiles who opposed the monarchy and

gathered in the rough mountain  terrain  outside  the  capital  city  to  live

outside its laws. They recognize no king or queen.  They  are  rumored  to  be

ferocious, unfriendly. They never stay in one place for long. They raise their

own food and have their own healers. They are rarely seen  by  outsiders.  Yet

they are greatly feared and hated. Elan herself is a legend, almost a ghost. I

have not managed to find one person who has actually seen her."

"Will they vote in the election?" Qui-Gon asked.

Queen Veda shook her head. "No. They have refused. They were  courted  by

both Deca Brun and Wila Prammi, but Elan refused to meet with them.  She  will

not recognize the new governor, just as she  never  recognized  King  Cana  or

myself."

"If this is true, why do you call Elan a factor in the election?" Qui-Gon

asked.

"Ah," the Queen said. "The last piece slips into  place."  She  slid  the

piece of azurite back in the mosaic design. "Now the picture is complete."

Obi-Wan shot Qui-Gon an impatient look. Queen Veda  stared  down  at  the

mosaic, lost in thought. She had gone back to the past, Qui-Gon realized.

Long moments passed before she raised her  head  again.  "I  admire  your

patience, Qui-Gon Jinn," she said quietly. "I wish I had that gift."

"It is not a gift, but a lesson to be relearned daily," Qui-Gon responded

with a smile.

She smiled back at him, nodding slightly. "Yes, I am learning that. Which

brings me to my story. When my husband, King Cana, was young, he fell in love.

Our marriage had been arranged, you see. I lived in another city. We had never

met. King Cana broke his vow to me and secretly married another woman. She was

one of the hill people. Naturally, the Council of Ministers was outraged. They

had already arranged our marriage. And the fact that King Cana had  married  a

hill person was unacceptable. The Ministers' influence was great. They  forced

him to relinquish the woman. When he told his wife that he had decided to obey

them, she left the city and returned to her people. He did not  know  it,  but

she was with child."

The Queen smoothed the mosaic with a hand that shook slightly.

"King Cana later discovered this. Still he did not search for her. I knew

nothing of this at the time. I arrived for my  wedding  and  was  married.  If

there was a shadow on my husband's heart, I never understood why it was there.

Until the last year of his life. He told me the story.  It  was  his  greatest

regret, he said. He had never recovered from the loss of his true love, or his

cowardice in not seeking out his child."

"He may have acted wrongly," Qui-Gon said. "It is good that he recognized

that before his own end. But I must ask you: What is its relevance  to  today,

Queen Veda?" He asked the question, already knowing the  answer."Elan  is  his

daughter," Queen Veda answered quietly. "The past lives in the present always.

"

"And why have you told us this?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Because now I, too, am dying," the Queen  answered.  "Elan  is  my  last

secret. I want to do justice before I die, justice to Elan.  She  should  know

her birthright. She is the true heir to the throne, not Beju.  She  must  have

the Mark of the Crown on her," the Queen  finished  softly.  Her  gaze  became

unfocused again, as though she were back in the past.

"The Mark of the Crown?" Qui-Gon prompted.

"The mark of succession," Queen Veda explained. "It's not an actual  mark

on the body. Only the Council of Ministers can identify it."

"Prince Beju doesn't have it?" Qui-Gon asked.

"If what my husband said is true, he will not," the Queen replied.

"It is not in the Council's best  interests  to  test  him.  As  you  may

imagine, most are not happy about the elections. Whoever becomes governor will

have the right to open the Council to elections as well."

Qui-Gon nodded. The Council would naturally back Beju in order to  retain

their own power. "What would you like us to do?" he asked.

"I cannot contact Elan," the Queen said. "Obviously,  she  wouldn't  meet

with me. But if you could send a message to her and request a meeting...  most

do not refuse a Jedi request, you  must  admit.  The  hill  people  often  jam

communication to the outside. I could send someone with your  message.  Travel

in the hill country is difficult and dangerous." The Queen looked down at  her

clasped hands. "And there's something else I haven't  told  you.  The  Council

didn't want you to come. I had to negotiate with them. Under the terms of  our

agreement, you are forbidden to leave the city of Galu."

"That makes things more complicated," Qui-Gon observed neutrally.

"Yes, but not impossible," Queen Veda said eagerly. "Perhaps you can..."

Suddenly, the ornate metal door to the chamber was thrown open with  such

force that it hit the wall with a loud clang. Prince Beju strode  in,  with  a

tall, bald man in a silver robe at his side.

The Prince pointed a finger at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.

"You must leave Gala at once!" he cried.

The Queen rose to her feet. "Beju, explain yourself,"  she  ordered,  her

voice shimmering with anger.

Beju slowly circled around the Jedi, his  gaze  contemptuous.  He  was  a

solidly built young man the same approximate height and weight as Obi-Wan, but

with shoulder-length hair that was so pale it was almost white. His eyes  were

the same ice-blue as his mother's.

In his short encounter with the Prince, Obi-Wan had been granted  a  full

picture of the boy's arrogance. He kept his own gaze steady but neutral.  Qui-

Gon was right. They should not antagonize the Prince any further.

"They call themselves Jedi, but  they  are  nothing  but  troublemakers,"

Prince Beju spat out. "Have you heard about  their  doings  on  Phindar?  They

meddled and sowed discord. As a result, there was a great  battle.  Many  were

killed. Do you want that to happen on Gala, Mother?"

"They broke the back of a crime organization  that  had  taken  over  the

planet," Queen Veda replied calmly. "The Phindians are  free.  And  they  also

brought us bacta to help with our own shortage."

The Prince flushed. "Some gift," he said contemptuously. "It  was  I  who

went to Phindar to negotiate the release of the bacta. Thanks to the Jedi, the

bacta was off-loaded from my ship by the Phindian rebels! No  doubt  the  Jedi

ordered them to do so. And now they bring my bacta here as a  gift?  It  is  a

joke!"

Obi-Wan stiffened. Why didn't Qui-Gon speak? The Prince  was  giving  his

own version of what happened on Phindar. It was filled with lies. Prince  Beju

knew that the Jedi had no proof that the Prince meant harm  to  Gala.  Obi-Wan

took note of his cleverness. But why wouldn't Qui-Gon speak the truth to Queen

Veda?

The frail, bald man by Beju's side turned  to  the  Jedi.  "Do  you  have

anything to say to this?"

"This is Lonnag Giba," Queen Veda said, turning to the Jedi. "He  is  the

Head of the Council of Ministers, and graciously agreed to your visit."

"That was before I heard Prince Beju's charges," Giba  said  sternly.  "I

ask you again, Jedi. What do you have to say?"

"We differ with the Prince  about  what  happened  on  Phindar,"  Qui-Gon

replied. His voice betrayed no irritation or anger at  the  Prince's  charges.

"But it would be pointless to argue. We  were  invited  here.  Why  should  we

defend ourselves? If you wish us to leave your world, we shall."

"No!" Queen Veda exclaimed.

"Yes, Mother," Prince Beju said, flicking  his  cape  behind  him  as  he

turned to face her. "Let them go. They are nothing but  meddlers  masquerading

as guardians, weaklings masquerading as Knights."

Queen Veda sighed. "Enough, Beju," she said. "You have made  your  point.

But Qui-Gon Jinn is right. The Jedi were invited  here  as  guardians  of  the

peace. We want the elections to go smoothly, don't we?"

"We don't want them at all," the Prince replied sullenly. "I am the  true

king of Gala. Father meant it to be so, and well you know it. If I ruled Gala,

I would send these troublemakers on the first transport back to their  so-holy

Temple."

"Yet I am ruler now," the Queen said softly. "And I say they shall stay."

"Of course," the Prince said bitterly. "You deny me the  crown.  Why  not

deny me everything else?"

"Perhaps there is a compromise we can reach,"  Giba  broke  in  smoothly.

"The Jedi will remain on Gala. But they cannot leave the palace unescorted. We

should send someone with them. Someone who knows the city well." He turned  to

the Jedi. "It is for your protection as well. The city is  a  dangerous  place

right now. There is much unrest. You'll need a guide."

Giba spoke diplomatically, but Obi-Wan didn't believe a word. The old man

knew that Jedi didn't need help to defend themselves. It was just a way to get

them to accept a spy who would report on their movements.

Obi-Wan waited for Qui-Gon's protest. But again,  the  Jedi  Knight  said

nothing. How could he agree to such humiliating terms?

Queen Veda's gaze rested on her son for a moment. She looked tired - very

tired. "As you wish, Beju," she said softly. "It is true. I  cannot  deny  you

everything." She wrapped her hand around a glowing rod that hung on the  wall.

It changed color to a soft blue. "Jono Dunn will escort the Jedi."

A moment later, the metal door opened. A boy about Obi-Wan's age stood at

attention, dressed in a navy tunic and pants.

"Jono Dunn, come forward," the Queen said. "These are the  Jedi  sent  to

Gala to oversee elections. Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. You will be  their

escort during their stay."

"They are not allowed to leave the palace without you," Prince Beju  said

quickly.

"Is this acceptable, Qui-Gon?" Queen Veda asked. Her  eyes  pleaded  with

him to agree.

Qui-Gon nodded. "We thank you for the assistance, Queen  Veda,"  he  said

quietly.

Obi-Wan couldn't believe it. Not only was Qui-Gon accepting a  guard,  he

was thanking the Queen!

Qui-Gon's sharp blue gaze moved to Giba. "And thank you, Giba.  I'm  sure

our guard will protect us on the dangerous streets of Galu."

Qui-Gon put a hand on Jono Dunn's shoulder and positioned the boy between

himself and Obi-Wan. Large and powerful, Qui-Gon towered over the slight  boy.

Although he was the same age, Obi-Wan's size and strength dwarfed the boy's as

well. Qui-Gon had effortlessly made the point that Giba's  offer  was  hollow.

Jono was no protection for the Jedi. He was only a pawn in the game.

The Queen's lips quirked in a smile. Giba's narrow face flushed red  with

anger. He pressed his thin lips together. "Enjoy your stay," he  said  through

clenched teeth.

"I'm sure we shall," Qui-Gon responded.

Qui-Gon bowed and left the chamber. Obi-Wan followed only a second later.

When he reached the hall, Qui-Gon was already gone.

Legacy.

The word struck a chord in Qui-Gon. He needed time to consider why it had

lodged so deep within him. He took the exterior stairway to the gardens below.

Obi-Wan would no doubt make his way to their quarters.

Trees were bursting with fruit, or were  in  blossom  within  the  palace

walls. Qui-Gon recognized a few -  muja  and  tango.  Masses  of  white,  red,

purple, and yellow marked the flower gardens beyond. The palace was famous for

its extensive gardens. Qui-Gon knew that every plant, tree, and flower  native

to Gala was represented here. He strolled in the orchards. The muja trees were

in blossom, and every sudden breeze sent a shower of pink petals  drifting  to

the grass below.

The Queen had spoken of her legacy. Dying, she considered what she wished

to leave be hind. Her first thought was for her son. She even felt a bond with

a stepchild she had never known.

The Galacians were a people of strong family bonds. Jobs  and  land  were

often passed down from parent to child. Marriages  were  carefully  chosen  to

strengthen the family.

Qui-Gon had given up family and children for the life of a Jedi.  He  had

chosen freely. No Jedi was bound to the life. He could choose to leave  it  at

any time. Yet he knew he would not.

Qui-Gon leaned down to pick up petals from the grass. He let  them  drift

through his fingers, to be carried by the wind. This would  be  his  life,  he

thought. He would wander the galaxy. He would  risk  his  life  on  behalf  of

strangers. What would he leave behind?

Qui-Gon's wandering took him to the kitchen gardens.  Signs  of  planting

surrounded him - shovels and rakes, careful rows of tiny seedlings taking root

in the dirt. He looked down at the ground, almost surprised  to  see  his  own

foot prints there. Wind and rain would soon wash them away.

Elan had chosen to live apart from society. She followed a  set  of  laws

that belonged to no government, no world, only her fellow travelers.

She was like him, he realized. He had never met her, but he knew her.

"Qui-Gon?"

He turned at the sound of  Obi-Wan's  voice.  The  boy  looked  hesitant,

afraid to disturb him.

"You disappeared," Obi-Wan said. "I didn't know where to look."

Qui-Gon could not share his thoughts. Obi-Wan was  young,  just  starting

out on his journey as a Jedi. He would not understand thoughts of legacies, of

what he would leave behind. Not yet.

"Why did you agree to our not leaving the palace without an escort?"  The

question seemed torn from Obi-Wan's lips. Obviously, the boy  thought  Qui-Gon

should have resisted Giba's suggestion.

"It is better for now that they  think  they  can  control  us,"  Qui-Gon

answered.

"Do you think the Queen is telling the truth?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Does she really not want her son to win the election? And what does  she

want with Eian?"

"It could be as she says," Qui-Gon said slowly. "Or it could be that  she

wants us to lure Elan back here in order to kill her. Any^Council  member  who

was alive when the King was young knows that Beju is  not  the  true  heir.  I

would guess that Giba knows, for example. That is why  he  is  afraid  of  us.

There is always the danger that the secret will be exposed. Of course, if  the

Queen is lying about her intentions, she could be  in  league  with  Giba  and

their disagreement was staged for our benefit. If they can get  rid  of  Elan,

Queen Veda could call off  the  elections  and  appoint  Beju  King."  Qui-Gon

paused. "Or she could be lying about Elan for some other  purpose  we  haven't

discovered."

"Well, what do you believe?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep the  confusion

and impatience out of his voice.

"I think there are more secrets  here,"  Qui-Gon  answered  thoughtfully.

"Yet I think we should proceed as though the Queen is telling the truth. I  am

going to the hill country to find Elan."

"But our mission is to oversee the election!" Obi-Wan protested.

"You can't do that from the hill country."

One corner of Qui-Gon's mouth Jifted in a half smile. "You are  sometimes

a bit too fond of the rules, Obi-Wan. Things change. A mission is  not  clear-

cut. Sometimes the direct road is not the one to take."

"But the safety of Gala is ifi our hands," Obi-Wan argued. "We were  sent

to be guardians of peace, not to go chasing long-lost daughters."

"You may disagree with me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said mildly. "That  is  your

right. But 1 will go."

"We're not allowed to leave the city,  or  even  the  palace  without  an

escort," Obi-Wan reminded him. "You were the one to  agree  to  it!  Giba  and

Prince Beju will be furious. Can't we allow the Queen's messenger  to  contact

Elan?"

"Elan will not listen to a message," Qui-Gon replied. "She will  have  to

be persuaded. She will have to see the truth in my eyes, or she will not come.

"

"You talk as if you know her!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.

"I do," Qui-Gon said quietly.

He walked closer to Obi-Wan and rested his hand gently  on  his  shoulder

for a moment. "Don't worry, Padawan. You can handle the mission here  until  I

return. Be alert for palace intrigue." Qui-Gon's keen gaze swept  the  palace.

"Trust no one here. There is a disturbance in the Force. I  don't  know  where

exactly it lies." Obi-Wan looked at him, frustrated. "But  what  will  I  tell

them when they ask where you are?"

Instead of answering, Qui-Gon strode  through  the  half-planted  gardens

back to the trees. As he walked, he reached up and  swiped  a  piece  of  ripe

fruit from a branch overhead. Without turning, he tossed it over his shoulder.

He didn't have to turn. He knew his Padawan would catch it.

"It's simple," he called behind him. "Tell them I'm still here."

"Respect is the cornerstone of the  Master-Padawan  bond,"  Obi-Wan  said

through his teeth. His voice bounced off  the  walls  of  his  room,  sounding

hollow to his ears. Still, he needed the reminder. Every  day,  alone  in  the

palace, he questioned Qui-Gon's decision. The morning sun burnished  the  wood

of the vast bed he slept in. A tapestry hung  on  the  opposite  wall,  finely

worked with metallic threads of gold, silver, and  green.  Woven  blankets  in

rich, jewel-like colors kept out the night chill. It was the finest room  he'd

ever slept in. But staying in the palace for the past two days was no treat.

Qui-Gon had given him an impossible task. Each morning before dawn,  Obi-

Wan ran through the connecting door to Qui-Gon's quarters and disarranged  the

blankets on Qui-Gon's bed. He lay on his pillow to leave an indentation.  Each

morning Jono Dunn knocked on the door, bringing tea  and  fruit.  Obi-Wan  had

told Jono that Qui-Gon meditated in the gardens early. He would wait for  Jono

to leave, then drink Qui-Gon's tea and eat his fruit as well as his own.  That

part was not hard. Obi-Wan was always hungry.

As for Prince Beju and Giba, Obi-Wan had to constantly invent excuses for

Qui-Gon's absence. The  Jedi  was  resting,  or  meditating,  or  touring  the

gardens. He would be along any minute, if they'd care to  wait...  they  never

did. He would take his evening meal in his room. He had  already  retired  for

the night.... Perhaps they were suspicious. Obi-Wan couldn't tell.  He  had  a

feeling they were relieved that Qui-Gon wasn't more involved in the elections.

Obi-Wan told Jono that Qui-Gon left much of the monitoring to him.

A soft knock came at Obi-Wan's door. A moment later, Jono opened it.

"I left a tray for Qui-Gon, as usual," Jono  said.  He  placed  Obi-Wan's

tray on the small table by the window. Usually, he bowed and left quickly, but

today, he lingered.

"I did not see him in the gardens," he said. "It's my  job  to  pick  the

flowers for the Queen morning and night. Yet I never see the Jedi."

Obi-Wan reached for a piece of blumfruit.

***

"The gardens are so large. He most likely avoided you. He doesn't like to

be interrupted during his morning meditation."

Jono stood quietly. He was a handsome  boy,  with  golden  hair  and  the

glowing skin of the Galacians. Although he had accompanied Obi-Wan on  several

trips to inspect polling places in Galu, he had not talked much.

"You think I am a spy," he burst out suddenly. "You think  I  am  working

for the Prince."

"Well, aren't you?" Obi-Wan asked calmly.

"I do not report to the Prince,"  Jono  said  scornfully.  "I  serve  the

Queen. The Dunns have served the ruler of Gala since the Tallah dynasty began.

"

"So you come from a line of royal servants?" Obi-Wan asked curiously.  He

pushed the plate of food toward Jono.

Jono ignored it. He  raised  his  chin  proudly.  "The  Dunns  are  great

landowners far from Galu. I was chosen at the age  of  five  to  come  to  the

palace. It was a great honor. All children in the Dunn family line are watched

from an early age. Only the smartest and quickest are chosen."

Obi-Wan held out a piece of fruit toward Jono. "I, too, was chosen at  an

early age," he told th* boy. "I left my* family and went to the  Jedi  Temple.

It was a great honor. But I missed my family very much, even though I couldn't

really remember them."

Jono reached out a tentative hand and took the fruit from Obi-Wan.

"The beginning was the hardest," he said, popping it into his mouth.

"The Jedi Temple is calm and beautiful. It is my home, and yet it is  not

a home, like everyone else has."

"That's just the way I feel!" Jono agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed

next to Obi-Wan. "The palace was too grand at first. And I missed the smell of

the sea. But now I feel at home. I know my duty, and I  am  proud  to  do  it.

There is honor in serving my Queen." He met Obi-Wan's gaze steadily. "But I do

not spy."

At that moment, Obi-Wan  and  Jono  became  friends.  Jono  continued  to

accompany him on his walks through Galu, but instead  of  silently  staying  a

short pace behind him, Jono walked beside Obi-Wan, sharing stories of the city

and of Deca Brun, his hero.

"The Queen is right to call for elections," Jono  told  him.  "Deca  Brun

wilt help Gala to rise again. He is for all the people, not just rich people."

Jono never asked again about Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan knew  Jono  suspected  that

Qui-Gon had left the palace. He appreciated his guide's silence.  He  did  not

have to lie to Jono any longer. His friend asked no questions.

Jono often spoke of his family. Even  though  he  rarely  saw  them,  his

connection to them was strong. Obi-Wan came to envy Jono's deep commitment. He

had left behind a concept of family when he took up his destiny as a Jedi. His

allegiance was to the Jedi Code. Was this choice the right one?  Suddenly  the

Jedi Code seemed so much more abstract than the ties of blood.

Heritage. Legacies. He wished he could speak of what he  was  feeling  to

Qui-Gon. But his Master wouldn't understand. He was deeply  committed  to  the

Jedi Code. He did not look back and wonder what he was missing.

And besides, he had abandoned Obi-Wan in order to chase a ghost. Evenings

were long in Gala. The sun set early, and the three moons rose slowly  in  the

navy sky. Obi-Wan liked to walk in the orchard at that  hour,  when  the  pale

gleam of moonlight turned the fruit on the trees to silver.

One evening he was surprised to find Queen Veda sitting on the grass, her

back against the thick, multistemmed trunk of a muja tree. She wasn't  wearing

her headdress, and her pale gold hair spilled down to her  waist.  She  looked

like a young girl until Obi-Wan drew closer and saw the wasting of illness  on

her face.

"Sit down, young Obi-Wan," she said, gesturing next to her. "I, too, like

the orchard at this time."

Obi-Wan sat next to her, cross-legged and erect in Jedi fashion.  He  had

not seen the Queen since he'd arrived. She looked shockingly worse.

"I like the smell of the grass," Queen Veda murmured, running  her  hands

through it. "Before I was sick, I used to like to look at it from my window. I

looked at everything from a window. Now I find I must touch it  and  smell  it

and be part of it." She placed a bit of grass in Obi-Wan's palm and closed his

fingers over it. "Hold on to life, Obi-Wan. That is my only piece of advice to

you."

Obi-Wan saw the marks of tears on the Queen's  face.  He  wished  Qui-Gon

were here. His Master's calm compassion soothed even the most fevered  hearts.

What would Qui-Gon say?

He would start with something neutral, but sympathetic. He would let  the

Queen speak, knowing she needed a willing space to talk. "You are not  feeling

better," he said carefully.

"No, I am feeling worse," Queen Veda said, resting her head  against  the

trunk. "The pain is very bad at night. I can't sleep. By the middle of the day

I feel somewhat better, but at night it begins again. That's why  I  come  out

here, before the pain gets bad. I want to remember days I felt well.  Days  in

the country..."

The Queen sighed.

"In the country?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"The Tallahs have a country estate west of here," Queen Veda said.

"Just after I had fallen ill I went there to recuperate. Maybe it was the

fresh air. Or maybe," she said ruefully,  "it  was  being  able  to  rest.  No

Council of Ministers calling me to meetings. No servants to  buzz  around  me.

Just the caretaker and myself. But then it seemed the government could not run

without me, so they came to me. Within days, I felt worse than ever. That  was

the worst thing," she said sadly. "To feel that I was getting better, and then

to relapse."

"But why don't you return?" Obi-Wan asked.

"The elections consumed my time at first," the Queen said. "Now I am  too

weak to travel. So my doctors tell me. And they are the best  in  Galu.  Every

day has been the same for me. Hope that I am  recovering.  Then  despair.  Now

hope is gone. I'm just waiting."

Obi-Wan looked at her. The moons had risen higher, painting her pale face

with a silvery cast. He saw again that she had once been beautiful.

"Don't look so sad," she told him. "I've accepted it at last.  Now,  will

you help me rise? It's time for my tea."

Obi-Wan rose and held out his hand. Her grip was weak. He placed  another

hand under her elbow and helped her stand.

"Good night, Queen Veda," he told her  as  she  moved  off,  her  gown  a

whisper in the grass. "I'm sorry," he added  softly,  knowing  she  would  not

hear.

The Queen's words had moved him. Whether she was lying about wanting Elan

to have her birthright, he didn't know. But  he  knew  the  Queen  had  spoken

honestly about her illness and her fears. He could only imagine  how  terrible

it must be to feel as though you are slowly  losing  your  grip  on  life.  To

suffer, to feel better, and then to have that hope of life snatched away every

evening as the moons rose....

Every evening. Obi-Wan sat up straighten The Force  was  telling  him  to

focus. Wasn't there an odd rhythm to the Queen's illness? And hadn't she  said

she had felt better at her country estate? Until the Council members arrived..

.

The thought made Obi-Wan dizzy.

Was the Queen being poisoned?

Obi-Wan didn't hesitate. If his suspicions were true, there was  no  time

to lose. Quickly, he rose to his feet and  hurried  through  the  gardens.  He

spied an old man dressed in the silver robes of  a  council  member  strolling

through the trees, placing an occasional hand on the silver bark for  support.

His milky blue eyes were turned upward toward the moon. Obi-Wan  doubled  back

before he was seen. He did not want to attract any attention.

He sped noiselessly through the palace hallways to the Queen's  chambers.

He knocked softly on the door.

"It's Obi-Wan," he called.

Jono opened the door. "The Queen is taking her nightly  refreshment,"  he

said.

"Who brings it?" Obi-Wan  asked.  When  Jono  looked  puzzled,  he  added

quickly, "I was wondering if I could get some tea  and  something  to  eat  at

night."

"The kitchen servants bring it up," Jono  answered.  "I'll  ask  them  to

include you." He grinned. "I'll make sure you get the cook's best sweets."

"May I see the Queen?" Obi-Wan asked. "I just need a word or  two."  Jono

nodded and withdrew to an inner chamber. After a moment, the door opened,  and

he beckoned Obi-Wan in.

The Queen was reclining on a sleep-couch, a tray  with  a  teacup  and  a

plate of fruit and sweets next to her on a small table.  A  small  bouquet  of

flowers stood next to it.

"I wanted to make sure you were all right," Obi-Wan said, coming  closer.

"You seemed tired in the orchard."

"How kind of you." The Queen gave him a sad smile. "I'm a bit more  tired

than usual, I'm afraid. But don't worry about me,  Obi-Wan  Kenobi.  You  have

more important matters to attend to."

"I think not," he said gently. "Your well-being is very important to  me,

Queen Veda."

He reached down and felt the teacup. There was only a small amount  left.

"Your tea is cold. Can I fetch you another?"

The Queen's eyes fluttered closed. "I've had enough,"  she  said  weakly.

"You can tell Jono to take it away."

"You rest now," Obi-Wan said gently. He picked up the tray and  moved  to

the doorway. When he slipped through, the outer chamber was  empty.  Good.  He

did not want to involve Jono in his plans.

Quickly, he carried the tray to his room. There, he poured the  tea  into

an empty vial from his emergency medpac. He placed the vial and  the  rest  of

the sweets in a drawstring bag and slipped them into a pocket  of  his  tunic.

Then he brought the tray back down to the kitchens.

Tomorrow, he would have to find a substance analyzer. And he  would  have

to do it without involving Jono.

"I'm worried about my Queen," Jono told Obi-Wan  the  next  day  as  they

walked down the streets of Galu. "I watch her grow weaker by the day. There is

nothing the doctors can do. Nothing I can do."

"You are close to her," Obi-Wan observed. He had  seen  the  affectionate

way the Queen spoke to Jono. He certainly got more warmth from the Queen  than

Obi-Wan did from Qui-Gon. But then, Jono had served her now for eight years.

Jono bit his lip. He nodded. "It is so hard. Prince Beju doesn't come  to

see her. He's angry at her. And he says it upsets him to see her look so  ill.

He needs to focus on the election. How can a son be so cruel? He  thinks  only

of his own feelings!"

They stopped outside a polling area that had been set up in  a  community

hall. Obi-Wan had toured many of the polling areas in Galu. He spoke to  those

who would direct the voters to the private datapad  terminals  to  cast  their

votes. He tested the datapads for accuracy. But he felt as though  his  visits

were useless. He was not an expert on voting processes.

On his first outing, he had contacted Qui-Gon by comlink to teJI him  how

useless he felt. Qui-Gon had no sympathy.

"Your presence is enough," he said shortly. "Just let them see  that  the

process is being monitored from an outside source. That will give  the  people

trust in the system."

Obi-Wan turned to Jono. "Jono, would you mind waiting outside? I think it

would be better. After all, people know you're a palace worker. I have to look

neutral or they won't trust the voting."

"That's true," Jono said hesitantly. "But I am supposed to stay  at  your

side...." His voice trailed off, but he smiled. "Of course you're right,  Obi-

Wan. I wouldn't want to jeopardize the elections. I'll wait over there in  the

plaza."

Obi-Wan thanked him and walked into the community center. He felt  guilty

deceiving Jono this way. But he couldn't involve his friend in  his  task.  If

the Queen was being poisoned, no one at the palace  could  find  out  that  he

knew. He had to trap the poisoner. If he needed Jono's help  later,  he  would

ask for it. First, he would need to consult Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan headed through the community center  and  out  a  side  door.  He

quickly walked down an alley into a side street. Then he doubled back  in  the

opposite direction.

On the way to the center, Obi-Wan had kept  his  eye  out  for  info-data

booths. They were dotted around Galu,  and  citizens  used  them  to  look  up

information on services available in the capital. There was  one  only  a  few

blocks from the center.

The bright green light on top of the info-data booth glowed, telling  him

the booth was free. Quickly, Obi-Wan entered. He  typed  "substance  analyzer"

into the datapad. Within seconds, the screen flashed with several names.  Obi-

Wan accessed a city map, which pinpointed where each analyzer was located. One

name, Mali Errat, had a lab  close  to  Obi-Wan's  location.  He  touched  the

screen, and a luminous green path showed him the route.

Obi-Wan hurried through the crowded streets. Jono  would  soon  start  to

wonder why he was taking so long. The boy knew the streets of Galu  well,  and

might search for him.

There was no answer to his knock at the address,  and  no  sign  outside.

Obi-Wan pushed open the door cautiously and found himself in a tiny, cluttered

room. One long durasteel table ran across the middle of it, touching the walls

at both ends. The table was covered with equipment:  tubes,  vials,  datapads,

circuits, measuring devices, holofiles. Metal storage boxes crowded the floor,

some stacked precariously, almost as high as the ceiling. Dura-sheets  covered

with data unfurled across the floor.

Was this a lab, or a storage area for a lunatic?

"Hello?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Who's that?" A head popped up from behind a stack of storage  boxes.  It

was a Galacian elder. Wisps of platinum hair covered his bald  head,  and  his

pale green eyes squinted at Obi-Wan. "What is it?  Come  on,  then,"  he  said

impatiently, snapping his fingers.

"State your business."

Obi-Wan walked closer and peered around the boxes. The man was sitting on

the floor.

***

Data printouts were littered around him and coiled in his lap.

"I'm looking for Mali Errat..."

"Speak up, boy, don't whisper!"

"Mali Errat," Obi-Wan repeated, louder this time.

"Don't shout! I'm Mali. You look surprised to find me in my own lab, boy.

Well, what do you want?"

"I have something I need analyzed-" Obi-Wan started.

Mali interrupted him again. "Another  surprise.  You're  in  a  substance

analysis lab. Therefore I would assume you  have  something  to  be  analyzed.

Obviously, I am brighter than I look."

The old man chortled.

Obi-Wan looked at the cluttered lab, the  rolls  of  data  printout  that

coiled on the floor like snakes. "Maybe you're too busy-"

"Way too busy, ifs true," Mali snapped. "So don't waste my time. Show  me

your item."

He didn't really have a  choice.  There  was  no  time  to  find  a  more

conventional scientist. Or a more polite one. Obi-Wan withdrew the pouch  from

his tunic. He handed it to Malt.

Mali took out the vial of tea and the little round sweet cakes.

"You want me to analyze your lunch?"

Obi-Wan held out his hand. "I can go elsewhere."

"Touchy young man," Mali muttered. "When do you need results?

"Right now," ObirWan said.

"It will cost you," Mali warned.

"I have credits," Obi-Wan said, showing him.

Mali took several credits from his hand. "That will do. Now."  He  stood.

He was a smalt man, but still agile, Obi-Wan  noted  as  Mali  leaped  over  a

storage box and pulled a stool up to the durasteel table.

Whistling through his teeth, Mali first took some crumbs from  the  cakes

and inserted them into a scan grid.

"Cake" he pronounced after a moment, reading the data. "Sweetener, rnuja,

meal, coagulate..."

"Nothing else?" Obi-Wan asked.

Mali licked the residue off his fingers. "It's delicious." He popped  the

rest into his mouth.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Try the liquid."

Mali poured a drop from the vial into a scan  grid.  Seconds  later,  the

grid flashed a graph with numbers and symbols.

"Ah," Mali murmured, straightening. "Fascinating."

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked, leaning forward.

"Tea," Mali said.

"And?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"Waten" Mali answered.

"And?" Obi-Wan asked.

Mali squinted at him. "Young impatient man, you must tell me  what  I  am

looking for. There are herbal compounds here, some acids,  some  tannins.  But

nothing I can tell is out of the ordinary. Unless you tell me what out of  the

ordinary event you are suspecting."

"Poison," Obi-Wan said reluctantly..

"Well, there you are! Always better to say what you want at  the  outset.

Otherwise, we waste time. No poison in the cake. A good thing, eh? I ate  it!"

Humming, Mali stared at the  graph  again.  He  pressed  a  few  keys  on  the

analyzer. Another graph appeared, then a stream of numbers and symbols.

"Well?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Interesting,"  Mali  said.  "There   is   one   substance   that's   not

identifiable."

"Is that unusual?" Obi-Wan asked.

He shrugged. "Yes, but not too. It's just a  matter  of  searching  other

data fields for chemical compounds with the same  structure.  But  that  takes

time."

"I don't have time," Obi-Wan said grimly.

Mali looked at the vial. He let out a whistle through his teeth.

"Ah. I see your point. I still have to search, impatient young  man.  But

for another credit, I will search fast."

Obi-Wan handed him the credit. He started  for  the  door,  then  turned.

"Can't you tell me if it could be  poison?"  he  asked.  "Just  your  educated

guess."

"It's possible," Mali admitted. "I can tell you this, young man. Whatever

it is, it doesn't belong  in  tea."  Before  finding  Jono,  Obi-Wan  found  a

secluded back alley to use his comlink to contact Qui-Gon. He didn't  want  to

risk using the comlink in public. And he felt safer contacting Qui-Gon outside

of the palace walls.

He waited for long minutes. But Qui-Gon did not respond. He  was  out  of

reach.

Obi-Wan was on his own.

He trudged back to the community center. Jono was sitting on top  of  the

wall that circled the plaza. His eyes were closed, his face  tilted  to  catch

the warming rays of the sun. The sun shines for such a short time  during  the

Galacian day that Galacians take any opportunity to sunbathe.

"Sorry to take so long," Obi-Wan told Jono. "There were a  few  problems.

Nothing major."

Jono jumped down from his perch. "I  knew  you  would  return.  It's  all

right. I am used to waiting. I have waited for a friend for a long time,  Obi-

Wan."

***

The Queen had not exaggerated the difficult  journey  to  find  the  hill

people. At first, the roads had been clearly marked. Qui-Gon had found a  ride

in a speeder to the outskirts of the city. A kind farmer had taken him far  on

a turbo cart, a young teenager on his speeder bike.  But  as  the  roads  grew

worse and the landscape more desolate, there were no more rides to be had.

The hills rose before him on the third day. They were rugged  and  steep,

climbing through dense forests. Occasionally he would come to a  clearing  and

be met with the eerie sight of a group of large  standing  stones.  The  harsh

beauty of the land grew as he traveled higher. The short days ended in sunsets

thatJturned the sky to blazing colors. Then the three moons  rose,  casting  a

silvery glow over the pate rocks and twisted trees.

His comlink no longer worked. Qui-Gon hoped that Obi-Wan  would  not  get

into trouble back at the palace. He was anxious to find Elan, anxious  to  get

back to Galu.

He reached the summit of the first range of hills. Snow dotted the peaks.

The only way through was a series of narrow passes. Qui-Gon felt  exposed  and

vulnerable as he hiked through the narrow gorge.

As he traveled,  the  sky  darkened.  The  temperature  dropped,  and  he

unpacked his thermal cape from his survival pack. He could smell snow  in  the

air. A storm was heading this way. He would have to find shelter soon.

Perhaps it was because his eyes were  constantly  moving,  searching  for

shelter. Perhaps it was because the eerie silence pressed on him, the dark sky

like a lowering curtain. Because Qui-Gon might not have caught the flicker  of

movement to his left if every sense hadn't been on alert. It could  have  been

no more than a shadow flickering on a rock, or the stir of  a  leaf.  But  the

movement had caught his eye and prepared him just a few quick  seconds  before

the attack came.

The bandits zoomed down on landspeeders with mounted ion cannons on front

and rear.

Qui-Gon tossed his survival pack on the ground.

He activated his lightsaber just in time to meet the  first  speeder.  He

dodged at the last possible second, sending the speeder careening into a tree.

He was already turning to his left to  slash  at  the  driver  of  the  second

speeder. His blow connected, and the speeder lurched to the left,  the  driver

hanging on as it barely missed the canyon wall. He  righted  it  at  the  last

second and zoomed back up to come around from the right.

Qui-Gon dove for cover. He could use the fact  that  he  was  in  such  a

narrow space. They would have to come at him one at a time. While the speeders

maneuvered to come at him again, he found a boulder close  to  a  grouping  of

massive standing stones. The canyon was to his back, the stones to  his  left.

The bandits could only approach from the right.

There were ten speeders... no, twelve - two more  buzzed  down  from  the

sky. One came at him, ion cannons blasting. Chips of stone flew at him  as  he

ducked and rolled, and stood again as the speeder  zoomed  past  him.  Qui-Gon

used the momentum of his roll to slash at the driver from behind. He fell  off

the speeder, which zoomed out of control and crashed. The driver  lay  on  the

ground, unable to rise.

The second speeder was down, and the next one was  right  on  its  heels,

cannons firing. This driver was more skilled than  the  others.  He  zigzagged

from side to side, the cannon fire missing Qui-Gon by centimeters as  he  took

cover from standing stone to standing stone. He reached out for the Force.  He

needed it.

He felt it pulse around him, grow stronger. He drew it in.

He moved quickly, surprising the driver.  He  flattened  himself  on  the

ground as the driver overshot him, cannons shooting at the canyon wall now. He

counted off seconds as the driver made a sharp turn to come.back at him again.

Qui-Gon left the cover of the stones and stood,  lightsaber  held  high.  This

time, he aimed at the speeder's control panel. He struck a hard blow  that  he

felt all the way up to his shoulder.

The pain shot up his arm. The blow had cost  him,  but  it  disabled  the

speeder. The engine began to smoke, and the speeder tilted wildly. It hit  the

speeder bearing down on Qui-Gon. They both crashed to the canyon floor.

Then Qui-Gon saw the speeder off to  his  left.  The  driver  was  either

reckless or skilled - it remained to be seen. He was coming fast, straight  at

the standing stones. The gap between them  was  small,  barely  enough  for  a

speeder to fit through. They were spaced at  irregular  intervals,  making  it

almost impossible to navigate between them.

Almost is the key word, Qui-Gon realized too late.

The daring driver made a hard left,  turning  the  speeder  sideways.  It

zoomed through the small opening. He reversed, hovered in midair, then made  a

sharp turn to the right. He zoomed through the next opening,  barely  clearing

it. Now he had a split second to make a clear shot at Qui-Gon.

The Force helped Qui-Gon move, sending him  leaping  up  on  top  of  the

boulder he had first used for cover. Another speeder was already bearing  down

on him. The driver was surprised by the sudden move, and made a hard  turn  to

avoid Qui-Gon, even as his cannon boomed. At the same time, the driver  midway

through the standing stones fired his cannons.  The  two  blasts  collided  in

midair, sending an explosive charge  that  ricocheted  off  the  boulder.  The

impact turned the boulder into a bomb, shattering  it  into  large  pieces  of

shrapnel that seemed to fly at Qui-Gon in slow motion.

Qui-Gon was hit in the chest. Badly. The impact knocked him backward, his

lightsaber leaving his grip and flying meters away from him.  He  lay  on  his

back, stunned. He could hear the engines of the speeders roaring  as  the  two

vehicles maneuvered to take their next shot.

His mind whirled from his fall. He groped for his lightsaber. He knew one

thing: He was caught between the two blasting cannons, out  in  the  open.  He

called on the Force and summoned his lightsaber to his hand.

The higher whine of a new engine came to his ears. As his lightsaber flew

to his grip, Qui-Gon saw another vehicle zoom into the tight spaces among  the

standing stones. He recognized it as a swoop, a speeder bike with  a  powerful

engine. The controls were located on the handlebars and on  the  saddle.  Only

the most daring riders could master such a vehicle. Just a slight touch  could

send it careening out of control.

He'd thought the first bandit was daring. The swoop  driver  bordered  on

reckless. But Qui-Gon read confidence and  control  in  the  way  the  vehicle

moved, so fast it was almost a blur,  banking  right  and  left,  hovering  in

midair and then reversing, zooming high and low  to  maneuver  underneath  the

larger speeder.

Qui-Gon pushed himself to his feet. The pain hit him,  red  and  searing,

and he realized he'd been hit by a chunk of boulder in the  leg  as  well.  He

called on the Force to help his body  to  respond,  his  mind  to  clear.  The

speeder was bearing down on him again. He leaped  to  avoid  cannon  fire  and

somersaulted over the lowflying speeder, striking down as he  did  so  at  the

control panel. He heard the engine sputter and die, and the speeder crashed.

Qui-Gon hit the ground and dodged blaster fire from a pilot  hurrying  to

help his comrade in the standing stones. But this driver was not so adept.  He

attempted to turn into the small gap and missed, hitting the stone and sending

his craft wobbling as he struggled to right it.

Qui-Gon got a good look at the driver of the swoop. He wore a black cloth

headdress that wrapped around his face. Only his eyes were visible. His gloved

hands gripped the handlebars of the swoop as he expertly  twisted  and  turned

through the stones, running the speeder down relentlessly. Yet  Qui-Gon  could

tell  that  the  swoop  driver  was  careful  to  allow  the  speeder   enough

maneuverability so that it wouldn't crash amid the stones.

Qui-Gon wondered what would happen to him once the swoop driver took care

of the ban dit on the speeder. The driver was surely a ban dit,  too.  Qui-Gon

would probably have his hands full  again.  The  remaining  speeders  hovered,

reluctant to help their comrade in the maze  of  standing  stones,  distracted

from Qui-Gon for the moment. Qui-Gon stood, his lightsaber  activated  and  at

his side.

He was ready.

At last the speeder made it through the standing stones, the swoop now so

close that it was almost touching the speeder's tailpipe. Suddenly, the  swoop

turned and flanked the speeder, driving it toward Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon was surprised by the maneuver but not unprepared. He leaped aside

as ion cannons began to fire. He could  feel  that  his  leg  wound  made  him

clumsy. He stumbled slightly, then twisted to keep the speeder in view.

The driver of the swoop kept one hand on the controls  and  picked  up  a

bowcaster with the other. Effortlessly keeping the swoop on track flanking the

speeder, he aimed and shot at the driver. The laser  hit  the  driver  in  the

wrist. Qui-Gon saw his mouth open in a howl that turned into a snarl.

The distraction was all he needed. Qui-Gon summoned the Force. He  needed

one last burst. The Force propelled him in a flying leap to the top of one  of

the standing stones. He delivered a stunning blow  to  the  surprised  speeder

driver as he zoomed past. The speeder crashed into the canyon floor.

Qui-Gon leaped down from the exposed position. He heard the high whine of

other swoops. He looked up and saw them like black insects  against  the  gray

sky, heading straight for him. There were  at  least  twenty,  and  more  were

heading down the pass from the opposite direction.

He would not be able to fight so many. Qui-Gon  watched  as  the  speeder

bandits took off. Some of the swoops gave chase. Had he landed in  the  middle

of a bandit war?

The lead swoop  flew  toward  him.  Its  repul-sorlift  engines  kept  it

airborne a few inches off the ground as the driver leaped off, his  bow-caster

pointed straight at Qui-Gon.

There was no use fighting. Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber and waited.

"Who are you?" The voice was gruff. Qui-Gon was surprised  at  how  young

the bandit sounded.

"Qui-Gon Jinn. I am a Jedi Knight sent to contact someone."

The bowcaster was now pointed at his heart. "Who?" the bandit demanded.

Qui-Gon decided that it would do no harm to  let  the  bandits  know  his

mission. Perhaps they could be bargained with.

"The leader of the hill people," he said. "Elan."

Slowly, the bandit unraveled the black headdress.  A  shower  of  silvery

hair spilled over slender shoulders. A young woman stood before him. Her  eyes

were dark, the color of an evening sky, unusual for a Galacian. Her  impatient

gaze flicked over him, taking in everything about him and making it clear  she

was not impressed a bit.

"Well, at least you did something right," she said. "You've found me."

***

Elan tossed the headdress and bowcaster into the side compartment of  her

swoop. She dusted off her hands on her  trousers.  "The  standing  stones  are

sacred to the hill people," she told Qui-Gon.

"You almost destroyed them."

"I did not mean to."

"You chose the field of battle," Elan said crisply.

"I needed cover," Qui-Gon said.

Snowflakes began to twinkle down from the sky. Elan cocked an eyebrow  at

him. "Ever hear of boulders? Trees?"

Qui-Gon resisted the temptation to argue. She  was  deliberately  putting

him on the defensive. "Do you know the attackers?" he asked instead.

She shrugged. "Bandits from the city outskirts. They make raids  up  here

occasionally.

There are always rumors in Galu that the  hill  people  hoard  gold.  The

greedy fools think it's true. I wish they'd leave us alone.  We  don't  bother

them." She gazed at him stonily. "Who sent you to find me, and why?"

"Queen Veda sent me," Qui-Gon said.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Then go back to Galu. I don't recognize her

authority."

"Don't you want to know what she wants?"

Elan crossed to the swoop and swung a leg over the saddle.

"Something about the election, I'm sure. It's no concern  of  mine."  She

pointed back the way Qui-Gon had come. "The way back is that way.  Don't  stay

in the hills. You'll be sorry if you do."

He didn't know if she was threatening him, or warning him  against  other

bandit attacks. Another swoop flew toward them and stopped,  hovering  in  the

air. A tall young man with bluish skin  gave  Qui-Gon  a  quick  glance,  then

turned to Elan. "Bad storm coming."

"I know, Dana," Elan said, casting a worried eye at the sky.  "When  they

come in, they come in hard."

As if to illustrate her words, the snowfall suddenly  began.  The  flakes

were like hard crystals, peppering Qui-Gon's exposed skin. He leaned  over  to

retrieve the survival pack he'd dropped when the fight began..  The  pain  cut

him to the quick, and he let out an involuntary hiss.

"He's wounded," Dana said.

Elan frowned, annoyed. "I can't send you back, I suppose.  Wounded,  with

this storm. You'd never survive. And night falls quickly in the mountains."

Qui-Gon waited. His wounds hurt him. But they would heal. Now it appeared

that he was lucky to have them. Elan's conscience wouldn't allow her  to  send

him on alone.

"One night," she warned him. "That's all. Now climb  up  behind  me.  And

don't fall off. I don't want to have to rescue you again."

The hill people weren't  overly  friendly,  but  they  were  kind.  Their

encampment was made up of white domes of various sizes constructed  out  of  a

flexible material that was bolted to struts. Inside his  small  dome,  Qui-Gon

found every comfort and convenience - thick  carpets  and  quilts,  a  glowing

heater, a small kitchen and bath, even a datapad for his personal use.

Dana told him that a healer would come to dress his wounds.  Qui-Gon  did

the best he could himself, but he could not reach the gash  he'd  received  on

his back when he fell. He slipped out of his tunic and waited for  the  healer

to arrive. Even though the storm howled outside, the dome felt solid and warm.

There was a knock on the dome door, and he called out for the  person  to

enter.

Elan ducked through the doorway,  carrying  a  small  bag.  She  shut  it

quickly behind her to keep out the wind and snow. "Good,  you're  ready,"  she

said.

"You're the healer?" Qui-Gon asked, surprised.

She nodded as she set out vials of ointment and rolls of  bandages.  When

she looked at him, her blunt gaze was challenging.

"Surprised? I'm not the healing type, is that it?"

"No, that's not it," Qui-Gon answered. "I have just never known a  healer

who could pilot a swoop like that."

A reluctant grin tugged at her mouth. "All right, let's see what we  have

here." She inspected his wounds and dabbed more ointment on one, then  dressed

it. "You did a good job."

"Jedi are trained as healers, too," Qui-Gon said. "I can't reach the  one

on my back."

"Turn around."

Qui-Gon felt the coolness as she dabbed salve on  his  wound.  The  salve

soothed the burning. "Thank you for such comfortable quarters," he said.

"We do not live like barbarians, no matter what the city  people  think,"

Elan answered. She unrolled a bandage.

"I didn't think you did," Qui-Gon said. "And it has been my experience on

many worlds that ignorance breeds fear. The fearful make up stories about what

they fear."

"Yes," Elan said coolly. "The city people are  ignorant  and  fearful.  I

agree. So why would I want to live among them?"

Qui-Gon tried to curb his exasperation. Talking with Elan was like trying

to catch a drifting snowflake. Whatever he said, she found a way to  make  his

meaning disappear.

"So that is why you won't participate in the elections?"  Qui-Gon  asked.

"The support of  the  hill  people  could  make  a  difference  to  the  right

candidate."

"And who is the right candidate?" Elan asked. She  still  worked  on  the

bandage on his back, so he couldn't see her face. He could only feel her cool,

expert fingers and occasionally the brush of her hair against his skin.  "Deca

Brun, who shouts slogans and murmurs promises? Wila Prammi,  who  has  been  a

slave to the royal system and now talks of democracy? That young fool,  Prince

Beju? No thank you, Jedi. I don't trust  the  elections,  I  don't  trust  the

Queen, and I don't trust the candidates. I am happy where I  am."  She  patted

the bandage in place, then rose. "I'm finished."

Qui-Gon turned to face her. "Thank you. You feel no loyalty to Gala?"

She replaced the vials and bandages in her bag with quick motions.

"I feel loyalty to my own people. I can trust them."

"What about your world?" Qui-Gon asked, easing back into his tunic. "Gala

is about to undergo a great change. A good change. Shouldn't the  hill  people

be part of it?"

Elan picked up her bag. She turned to him impatiently. "Is that  why  the

Queen sent you? To ask for my support for her son?"

"No," Qui-Gon said quietly. He watched her face carefully. "She  sent  me

to tell you that Prince Beju is not King Cana's true heir."

"And why should she tell me this?" Elan demanded. "And why should I care?

"

"Because you are the heir," Qui-Gon said. "You are King Cana's daughter."

Elan blinked. He saw the shock on her face, and saw how she was trying to

control it.

"What lies are these?" she asked, taking a step backward.  "Why  did  you

come here?"

"Lies or truth, perhaps only you can discover," Qui-Gon said. "I only say

what has been told to me, and what I've come to believe. Queen  Veda  recently

discovered that King Cana had a child before he married  her.  That  child  is

you. The Queen says she wants you to know your birthright."

"This is a trick," Elan said flatly. "A trick to  lure  me  back  to  the

city. She wants to imprison me, scatter the hill people - "

"No," Qui-Gon interrupted firmly. "I believe she only wants you to  know.

That is all."

Elan whirled around, her pale silver hair flying. She stalked toward  the

door. "I won't listen to this."

"What about your parents?" Qui-Gon asked, raising his voice to  be  heard

above the howling wind. "Your mother?"

Elan turned to face him again. "It is none of your  business,  Jedi.  But

I'll tell you so that you will not try to  confuse  me  with  lies  again.  My

mother lived in the hills all her life. She never went to Galu. My father  was

a great healer, renowned by all the hill people. You are wrong."

"I am sure that those who raised you are worthy  people,"  Qui-Gon  said.

"But Cana's blood may be in you, Elan."

She stared at him icily. "Perhaps you actually believe the Queen's  lies.

But Qui-Gon, I tell you that there is a plan behind her words. It is up to you

to find it out."

"She is dying," Qui-Gon said quietly. "She is thinking of her legacy.  It

is a gift she gives to you."

"I don't believe it, and I don't want it," Elan answered firmly.

"This is my legacy." She gestured to take in the dome and  all  that  was

outside it. "These are my people. We are all outcasts. You've seen how Gala is

ruled by powerful families. The hill people began a  hundred  years  ago  when

those who were different - whose eyes were too dark, whose skin was too  dark,

who had no family - took refuge here. We made our own society, and freedom  is

our first rule. My parents gave me this heritage. I am proud of  it.  I  don't

want any crown."

"You make a large decision in a very short time," Qui-Gon observed.

Her dark eyes studied him. "And what is this to you, Qui-Gon  Jinn?"  she

asked softly. "You have come a long way, almost lost your life, just  to  tell

me this. But Gala is not your world. Its people are not your  people.  I  have

ties to something. Do you? Why should  I  listen  to  talk  of  legacies  from

someone who has no ties?" Qui-Gon fell silent. Elan was trying to  wound  him.

Some of what she said merely echoed his own thoughts.

"My comlink was not working earlier," Qui-Gon said. " Is there any way  I

can contact my apprentice in Galu?"

"We jam communications in the hills for our protection,"  Elan  answered.

"But we will let you contact him as soon as the storm lessens. Speak to Dana."

She opened the door. The fierce wind blew back her hair and  clothes  and

sent an icy draft toward Qui-Gon. Elan didn't flinch.

"Tell your apprentice that when the weather clears, you will be  on  your

way," she added. Then she ducked out into the storm.

The door banged shut behind her. He had come a long way for nothing.  His

mission had failed.

***

Obi-Wan's comlink was activated when he woke the next  day.  Qui-Gon  had

contacted him at last. Afraid to use it in his room - he  was  still  wary  of

surveillance - he took it to a corner of the gardens  that  was  planted  with

wild tropical species. Under cover of the thick leaves of  overhanging  trees,

he opened the communication line.

"Hello,  Obi-Wan."  Qui-Gon's  voice  sounded  strained.  Obi-Wan  sensed

something...

"You're wounded, Master," he said in concern.

"I'm healing now. I ran into some bandits," Qui-Gon explained.

"But I found the hill people as well."

"And Elan?"

"I found her," Qui-Gon said. "My masked rescuer turned out to be the  one

I sought. But I haven't had much success. She thinks the  Queen  is  lying  to

further some plan of her own."

"That could be true," Obi-Wan said.

"And you?" Qui-Gon asked. "Have you discovered anything?"

"I think the Queen  is  being  poisoned,"  Obi-Wan  said.  Hurriedly,  he

explained his suspicions and his visit to the substance analysis lab.

Qui-Gon's face grew grave. "This is very bad news," he said.

"Who could it be?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Ask yourself who would benefit from her death," Qui-Gon  said.  "If  she

dies, the elections could be suspended by her successor."

"Beju!" Obi-Wan cried. "But would he poison his own mother?"

"He might," Qui-Gon said. "Though I don't think so.  I  think  under  his

anger there is genuine affection."

"I'm not so sure," Obi-Wan muttered. He didn't have a very  good  opinion

of the Prince.

"Or it could be someone who wants the royal line  to  continue,"  Qui-Gon

continued. "Like Giba. Or it could be someone whose motive isn't obvious.  You

must be careful, Padawan. You  must  have  proof.  Maybe  when  the  substance

analyzer gives you the poisonous agent, you will be able  to  figure  out  the

culprit. Didn't you say that Jono brought the nightly tea?"

"It can't be him," Obi-Wan said. "He only picks it up in the kitchens and

delivers it."

"You sound very sure of your new friend," Qui-Gon replied neutrally. "But

sometimes the obvious is the answer."

"I am sure of him," Obi-Wan said. Annoyance  rose  in  him  at  Qui-Gon's

suggestion. His Master had chosen to leave Obi-Wan in charge  at  the  palace.

Why couldn't Qui-Gon trust his judgment?

"In the meantime, you must warn the Queen," Qui-Gon said. "I see no other

way. She must only take food from those she trusts.  Better  yet,  she  should

prepare it herself."

"Are you coming back soon?" Obi-Wan hoped the answer would be yes.

"In a few days. My wounds might prevent me from traveling."

"But you said you were healing!" Obi-Wan protested.

"But they don't know that. Elan won't  take  well  to  hearing  that  her

healing arts are slow. She is proud of her skills."

"Elan is a healer?" Obi-Wan asked. A thought struck him. "But that  means

she could know about such things as poisons."

Qui-Gon's tone turned stern. "That is quite a jump in logic, Padawan. Are

you saying Elan could have something to do with the Queen's illness? She never

comes to Galu."

"But we don't know that," Obi-Wan argued. "You said she was  in  disguise

when you met her. What if she had knowledge of her position as heir? You asked

me who would benefit from the Queen's death. Isn't Elan that person?"

"She didn't know she was the heir," Qui-Gon said shortly.

"Or so she pretended," Obi-Wan said stubbornly. If Qui-Gon  could  accuse

Jono, why couldn't the web of suspicion extend to Elan as well?

"Concentrate on the palace," Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan heard  disapproval  in

his voice. "I will handle Elan."

The communication faded. Obi-Wan slipped the comlink back in his  pocket,

disappointed in their exchange. Sometimes it felt as  though  he  and  Qui-Gon

would never achieve the mind communion that is the mark of the  ideal  Master-

Apprentice relationship. Obviously, Qui-Gon had not been able to convince Elan

that she was the heir to the crown. Why was he wasting his time with the  hill

people?

Obi-Wan followed the path back to the kitchen gardens. As  he  rounded  a

corner, he almost ran into Jono.

"Obi-Wan! There you are," Jono said. "I left a tray for you.  Fresh  juna

berries for you this morning. Very sweet."

Obi-Wan nodded and headed back toward the palace. Jono had been so close.

Had he heard Obi-Wan's communication? Was Jono a spy for Giba and  Beju  after

all?

Qui-Gon's tone turned stern. "That is quite a jump in logic, Padawan. Are

you saying Elan could have something to do with the Queen's illness? She never

comes to Galu."

"But we don't know that," Obi-Wan argued. "You said she was  in  disguise

when you met her. What if she had knowledge of her position as heir? You asked

me who would benefit from the Queen's death. Isn't Elan that person?"

"She didn't know she was the heir," Qui-Gon said shortly.

"Or so she pretended," Obi-Wan said stubbornly. If Qui-Gon  could  accuse

Jono, why couldn't the web of suspicion extend to Elan as well?

"Concentrate on the palace," Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan heard  disapproval  in

his voice. "I will handle Elan."

The communication faded. Obi-Wan slipped the comlink back in his  pocket,

disappointed in their exchange. Sometimes it felt as  though  he  and  Qui-Gon

would never achieve the mind communion that is the mark of the  ideal  Master-

Apprentice relationship.

Obviously, Qui-Gon had not been able to convince Elan that  she  was  the

heir to the crown. Why was he wasting his time with the hill people?

Obi-Wan followed the path back to the kitchen gardens. As  he  rounded  a

corner, he almost ran into Jono.

"Obi-Wan! There you are," Jono said. "I left a tray for you.  Fresh  juna

berries for you this morning. Very sweet."

Obi-Wan nodded and headed back toward the palace. Jono had been so close.

Had he heard Obi-Wan's communication? Was Jono a spy for Giba and  Beju  after

all?

Obi-Wan guessed that the Queen was being poisoned with  her  night  tray,

but he couldn't be absolutely sure. He had no way  of  knowing  how  long  the

poisonous agent took to act. He couldn't take any  chances  with  the  Queen's

life.

He hurried to the Queen's chambers. The Queen sat in the outer chamber in

her morning robe. Dark circles were under her eyes, and  her  long  hair  fell

lankly down her back. The table was set for her breakfast - tea, fruit, and  a

protein cake. She was just lifting the tea to her lips with a shaking hand...

"No!" Obi-Wan cried. He sprang forward and knocked the cup away. It  fell

and smashed on the stone floor.

The Queen slowly turned to stare at it. "That was part  of  my  betrothal

gift," she said.

"I think you're being poisoned, Queen Veda," Obi-Wan blurted.

The Queen seemed to move her head with difficulty. She fixed her eyes  on

him. "What did you say?"

"I don't know who it is," Obi-Wan said desperately. "I have  no  proof  -

not yet. But if it is true, you  must  not  drink  or  eat  anything  that  is

prepared for you."

"This is impossible," the Queen whispered.

"Impossible it is," Prince Beju announced, striding in. Giba followed  on

the Prince's heels. "The Jedi is lying!"

"Why would he lie, my son?" Queen Veda asked weakly.

"To discredit the palace," Prince  Beju  answered.  "Or  for  some  other

reason we have yet to discover. I do not trust either of them, Mother!"

"And where is the other?" Giba demanded silkily. "Time and time  again  I

have asked to see him, only to hear that he is resting, or walking about. I do

not believe it! This Jedi lies already, I think. So  why  should  he  not  lie

about this?"

"You both are ready to accuse me. Strange that you do not give a  thought

to whether what I say is true," Obi-Wan pointed  out.  "Even  if  there  is  a

chance that it's true, I would think you  would  be  concerned.  Look  at  the

Queen. She grows weaker every day."

The Prince turned to his mother. His angry look faltered  for  a  moment,

and he took a half step toward her. Then he collected himself  and  turned  to

Obi-Wan. "My mother's illness is not your concern. And spreading lies about it

doesn't help her. It only upsets her! Perhaps Qui-Gon Jinn is mixed up in this

poisoning you speak of. Giba is right. It is strange that we haven't seen him.

He agreed to our rules, and then broke his promise. He is capable of anything!

"

"Qui-Gon has gone to the mountains to try to convince Elan to  bring  the

hill people to vote," Obi-Wan said. It was a half truth, but at least it  gave

an explanation for his disappearance. He could not reveal the Queen's secret.

"What a ridiculous story!" Prince  Beju  scoffed.  "Why  would  the  hill

people make a difference? Why should we care what they think?  Obviously,  you

are lying again."

The Queen pushed herself to her feet. The act seemed to cause  her  great

effort. "He is not lying, Beju," she said. "I know  it.  I  asked  Qui-Gon  to

contact Elan. For me."

"But why?" Prince Beju asked, wheeling around to face his mother.

"Because she is your half sister," Queen Veda replied steadily.

"It is time you knew. Your father had an early marriage, and a child.  He

divorced his wife and abandoned the child. The decision haunted him - "

"I don't believe it!" Prince Beju shook his head.  "Now  you  are  lying.

Father would not act so dishonorably. Family is the  cornerstone  of  life  on

Gala. How often he said that.  He  would  not  disgrace  the  Tallah  name  by

marrying a hill person. And he would not abandon his child! You know this!"

"I am sorry to tell you this, Beju," Queen Veda said gently. "It is true.

He regretted it. He wanted to make it right."

"You defile Father's memory," Prince Beju whispered in horror.

"Will you go to any length to shame me?"

The Queen turned to Giba. "Tell him," she begged. "You  were  there.  You

know it is true."

Giba shook his head. "I'm sorry, Queen.  I  will  do  anything  for  Your

Highness. Except lie for you."

The Queen staggered backward. Obi-Wan moved forward to support her.

"Now I see it all," Prince Beju raged. "You are in league with the  Jedi.

You have conspired against me. You will do whatever it takes to make sure I do

not gain the crown."

"No, Beju, my son," Queen Veda said weakly. "No..."

***

"I am catling the guards' Prince Beju said firmly. He  moved  toward  the

tubes mounted in the wall.

Obi-Wan was still holding on to  the  Queen's  arm.  He  could  feel  her

shaking. She was close to collapse. Yet with a sudden burst of  strength,  she

pulled away from Obi-Wan. She had time to give him a look  that  told  him  to

run. Then she staggered forward and collapsed against her son.

Prince Beju was thrown off balance. He held on to his mother so that  she

wouldn't fall. Giba took a step forward to help him.

Obi-Wan quickly ran out the door.

Obi-Wan fled. He burst through the door to the gardens and saw the  flick

of a silver robe as the elder council member with the milky  blue  eyes  moved

off into the trees. Obi-Wan  turned  in  the  opposite  direction  and  snaked

through the orchard.

He had to leave the palace grounds, and he could not leave  by  the  main

gate. He was sure now that Giba was behind the  Queen's  poisoning.  The  only

question was if Prince Beju knew about it. The  Prince  had  seemed  genuinely

stricken by his mother's condition.

He heard running footsteps behind him. Obi-Wan quickened his pace. He was

almost to the high stone wall that surrounded the palace grounds.

"Obi-Wan! Wait, friend!"

It was Jono. Obi-Wan hesitated. Could he trust him? He  wanted  to  trust

him. He liked him.

But had it just been a coincidence that Giba and Beju had burst into  the

room while he was talking to the Queen? Had Jono followed him there  from  the

gardens, then run to fetch them? Qui-Gon's warning lay heavy on his heart.

"Please!" Jono called. In another moment, he would round the turn of  the

path. What if he was bringing the guards? Obi-Wan still had time to run.

I knew you would return.... I have waited for a friend for a  long  time,

Obi-Wan.

He remembered the look in Jono's eyes that day, wistful and sincere. Jono

had trusted him. Obi-Wan had to return the favor. Obi-Wan stopped short.

Jono burst into sight, his blond hair flying. He almost slammed into Obi-

Wan, but instead tripped and went flying.

"Ow!" he cried, rubbing his knee. He pushed his hair out of his eyes  and

grinned. "That will teach me to try to catch a Jedi."

Obi-Wan helped him to his feet. "You can run fast."

"That's why you need me," Jono said. "You must let me  help  you.  I  was

coming to attend the Queen. I heard what happened. Do  you  really  think  the

Queen is being poisoned?" he ended on a whisper.

"Yes, I do," Obi-Wan said.

"Beju has called the guards. It's not safe here, Obi-Wan. They're already

searching for you."

"I was just about to leave," Obi-Wan told him.

"But where will you go?" Jono asked, frowning.

"I'll hide in the city," Obi-Wan said. "I'll wait for Qui-Gon to return."

"They will catch you," Jono said. "There are spies everywhere. I must  go

with you. And I know where we should go."

"Where?" Obi-Wan asked.

"To Deca Brun," Jono said firmly. "He will help us."

Deca Brun's headquarters were in a crowded, bustling area of Galu, in the

middle of shops and tall residential towers. Red banners proclaiming his  name

flapped from almost every  window.  Large  posters  of  a  smiling  Deca  were

plastered on walls. Written on the bottom in Deca's bold handwriting was: I AM

YOU! WE ARE ONE!

"It was Deca who showed us that we are all Galacians," Jono told  Obi-Wan

as they  approached  the  building.  "Before,  family  lineage  was  the  most

important tie on Gala. The great families of Gala - the  Tallahs,  the  Gibas,

the Prammis, and others - received the favors of the court. It  was  Deca  who

said that we owed loyalty to each other, to all Galacians."

The boy's face shone with pride. "He made me realize  that  there  was  a

world outside the palace." Jono pushed open the door. The  office  was  filled

with campaign workers. Some tapped on  datapads,  others  huddled  in  groups,

talking earnestly.

One tall, bony Galacian caught sight of Jono. He grinned  and  waved  him

over. "Jono! Come to volunteer, have you?"

Jono headed for the man. "Sila, this is my friend Obi-Wan. We need to see

Deca at once."

Sila smiled. "So do we all, Jono," he said. "He's  hard  to  track  down.

He's everywhere. Making speeches, meeting new supporters..."

"But this is important," Jono insisted.

Sila's smile faded. "I can see that,"  he  said.  "He  could  be  in  his

private quarters." He hesitated. "Come with me," he said.

Obi-Wan nodded at Jono to go ahead.  He  took  a  seat  against  a  wall.

Suddenly a young woman stuck her head in the  front  door.  "Rally  on  Thrush

Street," she called. "Aren't you all coming? We need help."

The Brun workers sprang to their feet, grabbing banners and laser  signs.

"Hold down the fort," one of them yelled at Obi-Wan. He nodded.

In seconds, the room had cleared out. Someone had left a holofile open on

the desk near him. Obi-Wan leaned over it.

A familiar name caught his eye. OFFWORLD.

A chill ran though Obi-Wan. He and  Qui-Gon  had  tangled  with  Offworld

recently. The corporation was a ruthless organization that enslaved beings for

their vast mining operations. They plundered planets, depleted  their  natural

resources, and then moved on.

And Offworld was  headed  by  Qui-Gon's  enemy,  his  former  apprentice,

Xanatos.

Obi-Wan touched the scrolling device.  As  far  as  he  could  make  out,

Offworld had donated a large sum to Deca Brun's campaign. The money  had  been

funneled through several names of other Galacian companies.

Obi-Wan closed the file and scrolled through the remaining  file  titles,

but there was no other mention of Offworld. Then he saw a file marked GALACIAN

MINING CORP.

He accessed it. It was a detailed plan for opening up half of  tiny  Gala

to mining operations. This would include the Galacian Sea, the largest  source

of fresh water for the planet - and the home of the few remaining sea people.

Obi-Wan quickly read through the plans, which included importing  workers

from other worlds, building spaceports for the huge transports that were  part

of Offworld operations, and "recruiting" native Galacians for the work.

The company was a front for Offworld.

Deca Brun must have  agreed  to  the  plans  in  exchange  for  financial

support, Obi-Wan realized. Deca  claimed  his  treasury  was  based  on  small

donations from the average Galacian. It was proof of  his  wide  support.  But

instead, most of his campaign had been funded by Offworld.

Obi-Wan quickly shut down the holofile. He turned and hurried through the

door where Jono had disappeared. He had to find the boy, get out of there, and

warn Qui-Gon...

Instead, he ran into four blasters pointed  at  his  chest.  Four  guards

stood in the hallway. Behind them was another door.  Obi-Wan  heard  the  lock

click behind him on the door he'd just run through.

"Give me your weapons, spy," one of them said.

"I'm not a spy..." Obi-Wan began. Blaster fire suddenly erupted.  Obi-Wan

heard it whistle by his ear and thud into the wall behind him. Bits  of  stone

flew out. One cut his cheek.

"Give me your weapons, spy," the guard repeated.

Another guard came forward. He took Obi-Wan's lightsaber and comlink.

"Do you know," the guard said conversationally, "how much food  it  takes

to feed Deca's organization?"

Surprised by the question, Obi-Wan shook his head.

"Let me show you," the guard invited. He pushed Obi-Wan  forward  roughly

with his blasters.

They took him to a vast kitchen area. Then they opened a thick  durasteel

door and shoved him inside. It was a food storage area. Boxes lined row  after

row of shelves, and meat hung from hooks on a far wall. It was cold.

Obi-Wan landed on the floor of the huge freezer. He heard the thick  door

shut, and the bolt shot home.

***

As soon as Qui-Gon woke, he knew the storm was over. The wind  had  died,

and an eerie stillness lay over the camp. When he cracked open the door of the

dome, he saw a white blanket of snow, and a clear blue sky.

Elan would want him to leave today. Qui-Gon gathered his  things,  trying

to gather his thoughts as well. Was there another argument he had yet to  try?

He refused to give up. He sensed that Elan's  participation  in  the  election

process was crucial for its success. He  ate  a  small  breakfast  and  walked

through the snow to Elan's  dome.  The  hill  people  were  already  stirring.

Children were playing in the snow. A man gathered late season berries  from  a

bush. Dana waved at him from across the clearing, where he was  carrying  wood

for an elder.

Qui-Gon knocked on the door  of  Elan's  dome,  and  she  called  out  an

invitation to enter.

She was mixing salves and potions at a work table in front  of  a  small,

cheerful fire. Qui-Gon remembered Obi-Wan's suspicions. He had discounted them

immediately. Had he been wrong to do so? Yet something in Elan  felt  pure  to

him, felt real. He could not imagine her capable of condemning  someone  to  a

slow death by poisoning. Qui-Gon pulled up a chair next to her.

"Don't get too comfortable," she said. "You're leaving this morning."

"The snow seems deep," Qui-Gon observed.

"We'll give you a swoop," she said. She began to rub herbs into a paste.

"My wounds still trouble me," Qui-Gon said.

"I'm making you some medicine," she  answered,  unperturbed.  "Almost  as

good as bacta." She looked at him at last with a faint smile.

"Do you think I will change my mind, Qui-Gon? If so, you don't know me."

"Ah," he said. "But I feel that I do."

The rumble of thunder suddenly rolled through the  still  air.  The  dome

rattled with the power of it.

"Another storm," Qui-Gon said.

She grinned. "You'll make it."

The thunder rumbled again. Qui-Gon sat up straighter. When he  looked  at

Elan, he saw that her smile had faded.

"That is not thunder," Elan said.

"Tanks," Qui-Gon replied.

When they ran from the dome, Dana  was  racing  for  them.  "We're  under

attack," he said breathlessly. "It's the royal guard! I saw the insignia."

The rumble of tanks made the ground shake. Qui-Gon saw  them  approaching

across a wide plain. The tanks were hampered by the deep snow, but they  would

make it. The hill people didn't have much time.

"We've got to divert them from the camp," Elan cried.

A shadow fell over the snow. Qui-Gon looked up.  A  massive  royal  guard

transport ship banked over the camp. It landed in a snow-covered  meadow  near

the moving tanks. Ramps slid down around  the  transport.  More  tanks  rolled

down.

"Proton tanks," Qui-Gon said. "The troops are  inside.  They  won't  risk

exposure if they don't have to."

"The camp will be leveled," Dana said.

Elan bit her lip, thinking. "The wind came from the northeast during  the

storm, right, Dana?"

"Yes, but..."

"Get everyone to the swoops," Elan ordered crisply. "Have Nuni  take  all

the children and elders to the safe  shelter.  And  send  Viva  to  gather  my

medicines. We... we could need them later. Quickly!"

Dana nodded and ran off. Elan turned to Qui-Gon. He admired her  coolness

in the face of such odds.

"And you, Qui-Gon," she said. "I will need  every  swoop  for  battle.  I

can't loan you one now. But you can escape down the back of the mountain  that

way." She pointed to a narrow trail that snaked past the domes.

"I'll take that swoop you promised me," Qui-Gon answered.

"But I can't..."

He activated his lightsaber and held the glowing  green  light  front  of

her. "I will not leave your people unprotected," he said. The hill people were

ready to go - everyone over the age of ten and under the  age  of  eighty  sat

astride swoops, Qui-Gon guessed.

Elan swung a leg over her swoop. Qui-Gon did the same.

"Here's the plan," she told the others. "First, we buzz the  tanks.  Make

them angry. Keep out of cannon range. Remember the zoomball game?"

Everyone nodded. She grinned at them, meeting as many eyes as she  could.

"Make the tanks the goalposts. Fly  as  though  you're  up  against  the  best

zoomball players in the galaxy. We're going to try to drive them away from the

camp. Then when they're good and mad, we'll head to Moonstruck Pass."

"Moonstruck Pass?" Dana asked.  "But-"Elan  grinned.  "Exactly."  Qui-Gon

didn't have time to ask what they meant. Elan gunned her engines and took off.

Within seconds she was just a dot in the distance. The others followed.

Qui-Gon had driven speeders of various kinds  and  all  sorts  of  flying

vehicles. This was his first experience on a swoop. The  engine  controls,  as

well as the steering, were on the handlebars. He gunned  the  engine  as  Elan

had, picked up speed, then corrected his direction  slightly  by  turning  the

right handlebar. Immediately, the swoop flipped and headed for a tree.

"Lean away from the turn!"  someone  yelled  to  his  left,  and  Qui-Gon

leaned, holding on for dear life. Once he felt the  swoop  was  under  control

again, he tried a more cautious correction.

This time he was able to stay with the others, or at least keep  them  in

sight.

Soon, Qui-Gon had a feel for the machine. It was more responsive than  he

was used to, but it was agile. Before coming in range of the ion  cannons,  he

practiced diving and soaring and sharp  turns,  hanging  in  midair  and  then

turning. Then he picked up speed to join the others, who were almost in  range

of the tanks.

Elan turned as he rode up next to her. "About time," she said.  Her  grin

was friendly, as though they were out for a pleasure ride.

"Think you can handle that machine?"

"I'll do my best," Qui-Gon answered, just as cannon fire  ripped  into  a

tree to his left.

"You'll need to," Elan answered. She turned her handlebars sharply to the

right, avoiding another blast from the cannon.

The swoops spread out in formation, dived, and zoomed upward again.  They

charged forward to the tanks, then retreated. Soon, Qui-Gon caught the rhythm.

He understood why Elan had likened  it  to  a  game.  The  tanks  were  clumsy

compared to the small, agile swoops. They were able to fly up high, then  zoom

downward into the mouths of the cannons, then turn away before the royal guard

had a chance to fire.

Elan and Dana led one tank on a chase, losing  it  in  some  undergrowth.

Qui-Gon heard a tremendous crash, and a cheer went up among the  hill  people.

The tank had fallen nose-first into a ravine.

"Moonstruck Pass!" Elan called. She reversed  her  engines,  hovering  in

midair as another cannon blast missed her by a hair.  Then  she  zoomed  down,

heading down the mountain but constantly zigzagging from right to left, up and

down. Qui-Gon followed the dizzying trail.

The tanks found it hard to  keep  up.  Qui-Gon  imagined  that  they  had

thought the battle would be simple. They would train their massive guns on the

camp, destroy it, then capture the survivors. They did  not  expect  the  hill

people to lead them on a chase down a  mountain.  If  they  were  smart,  they

wouldn't follow. But the  royal  forces  were  rusty.  They  hadn't  fought  a

tactical battle in generations. Most of their job had been putting down  minor

insurrections in the cities. They were long on strength and short on tactics.

But Qui-Gon knew better than to  underestimate  those  tanks.  Once  they

caught Elan and the hill people, their firepower would eventually win the day.

How could bowcasters and a few blasters  -  and  one  lightsaber  -  hold  out

against such weaponry?

Qui-Gon stayed at the rear of the swoops, trying to draw ion cannon  fire

from the speeding tanks. He had no idea where he was heading. The mountains on

either side began to close in. He began to worry. Soon, the  swoops  would  be

unable to maneuver freely, and that was their only tactical advantage.

Sunlight hit the snow ahead, blinding him. Suddenly, the swoops in  front

of him slowed down. Qui-Gon quickly scaled back, drifting uncomfortably  close

to the tank at his rear. The Force surged around  him,  warning  him,  and  he

swung to his left. Cannon fire missed him by inches. He felt the hot breath of

it sear his back. Qui-Gon zoomed forward to catch up to the other swoops.  The

sun was so bright on the snow that he could hardly see. He used the  Force  to

guide him. He realized that the trail he was following narrowed even  further,

the canyon ahead curved back in on itself from above, forming a kind of  bowl.

They would surely be trapped there, he thought. Had Elan lost her way? Or  did

she have a plan in mind? He just wished he knew what it was.

He caught up to the other swoops, who were now hovering  high  above  the

pass into the canyon. Qui-Gon joined them. When the tanks arrived, the  swoops

would be cut to pieces.

Jedi are ready to meet death at any moment. But did Elan have  to  invite

it?

The tanks roared ahead, picking up speed as the royal guard realized they

were about to trap the hill people. Ion cannons boomed now,  more  in  triumph

than according to plan. The tanks rolled into the canyon. The first maneuvered

to fire on the hovering swoops....

And it suddenly sank into an enormous drift. Snow and ice caved  in  over

the top. The second tank crashed through a skin of ice and was swallowed up.

It was too late for the others to  retreat.  One  by  one,  they  crashed

through the top of the ice-crusted snow and were swallowed up as well. In just

moments, the tanks had completely disappeared. Elan zoomed up next to Qui-Gon.

The cold wind had turned her cheeks pink. Her navy eyes sparkled.

"I don't think you'll be needing that light-saber, Jedi," she said.

Elan had known that with a  northeast  wind,  the  canyon  would  acquire

drifts hundreds of meters deep. The lack of morning sunlight would  cause  ice

to form a crust on the top. She had gambled that  the  tanks  would  roll  in,

anxious to capture the hill people.

Her gamble had paid off. The hill people had won the battle  without  one

casualty. They could have left the royal guard buried alive in the snow.  Qui-

Gon could not have prevented it. He could not have dug the tanks out  himself.

But to his surprise, Elan organized a rescue operation.

Using snow-borers that hovered only inches above the  surface,  the  hill

people dug tunnels into the snow, deep below to the tank entrances.  They  led

the surprised and grateful battle soldiers to the  surface,  where  they  were

flown back to the camp on swoops.

They were housed in the largest dome and brought  blankets.  Guards  were

posted at the dome door, but none of the soldiers wanted to escape. They  were

grateful for the warm shelter. Bandages and ointments were given to those  who

needed them. The crash into the snow  had  bruised  a  few.  One  soldier  had

sprained his wrist. The tank that had slid over into the ravine  produced  one

woman warrior with a bruised temple. That was the extent of the injuries.

Qui-Gon tried to raise Obi-Wan on the corn-link. He needed  to  find  out

what was going on at the palace. Who had ordered the attack? Prince Beju? Qui-

Gon knew one  thing:  Desperation  had  fueled  the  attack.  That  meant  the

situation could be volatile back at the capital.

Obi-Wan didn't answer. Qui-Gon pushed his worry away for the  moment.  He

headed to Elan's dome.

"Now I have a problem," Elan grumbled when Qui-Gon entered. She was  busy

tending to an elder who had been grazed by a branch as he flew on  his  swoop.

"What am I going to do with all of  them?  I  can't  set  them  loose  in  the

mountains. Maybe you could lead them back."

She dabbed ointment on the elder's forehead,  then  gently  bandaged  it.

"You should have gone with the rest of the elders, Domi," she scolded.

"I'm too young to be an elder," Domi said.

Elan sighed as she rinsed her hands. "Now we have to feed them all. We're

going to be out of supplies in a week."

Still grumbling, Elan headed off. Domi grinned at Qui-Gon.

"She's got a soft heart, our Elan," Domi said.

"And a tough bite," Qui-Gon said.

Domi laughed. "True." He touched his bandage gingerly. "She  has  healing

hands, like her father."

"You knew her father?" Qui-Gon asked curiously.

"Rowi's memory is still cherished by our people," Domi answered.

"He knew every herb in the mountains. He passed on his potions  to  Elan.

And her mother Tema was known for her spirit. She was one of the few to  leave

us. She was restless, wanted to see the world outside. But she returned.  Hill

people always return." Domi slid off the stool.

"Where did Tema go?" Qui-Gon asked.

"To Galu, where they all go," Domi answered. "And they all  return.  Tema

was an artisan, and she heard the palace needed workers.  She  wanted  to  see

life outside the hills. She never spoke of what she found there. I  never  had

an inclination to go, myself. I would miss the mountains."

Smiling, Domi headed out. Qui-Gon frowned. So Elan had lied to  him.  Her

mother had traveled to Galu, after all. And she had worked at the palace.

Elan must be afraid, he realized. He had shattered her world, her  belief

in where she came from. She might push his words away. But she  would  not  be

able to forget them.

Elan had been to the kitchen dome, but had already left when he  arrived.

Food preparation was under control. Qui-Gon  headed  to  the  dome  where  the

prisoners were kept, hoping to find her there.

He nodded at the posted guard and went in. The soldiers had  gathered  in

small groups, talking quietly. Elan wasn't present.  Qui-Gon  saw  an  officer

sitting alone by the heating unit. His tunic was stained,  and  his  hand  was

bandaged. He stared dully at the glowing bars of the heating unit.

Qui-Gon sat next to him. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"Do you need a medic?"

"He said they were barbarians," the officer said numbly.  "He  said  they

killed for sport and would attack the city next. Instead, they rescued us from

suffocation and starvation. He said they must be annihilated to save Galu.  He

said they had no mercy. Instead, they gave us blankets."

"Who said this?" Qui-Gon asked. "Prince Beju?"

"Take orders from that pup?" The officer shook his head. "It is Giba  who

gives us the orders. And he deceived us."

Qui-Gon had to talk to Obi-Wan. Giba had to be stopped. If he was willing

to destroy the hill people to kill Elan, he was no doubt engineering some sort

of takeover of the government. Once again, Obi-Wan did not  answer  his  call.

Now Qui-Gon was truly worried. Something  was  wrong.  His  Padawan  knew  the

importance of keeping in touch.

Suddenly, Qui-Gon felt a disturbance in the Force, a ripple of  distress.

It could only be from Obi-Wan. He must return to Galu immediately.

He searched for Elan,  finally  locating  her  as  she  was  leaving  the

children's dome. He quickly told her that Giba had been behind the attack.

"What is it to me?" she asked, avoiding his gaze.

"This attack was planned in order to destroy you," Qui-Gon said.

"If he had to destroy your people, he would do it. Doesn't that tell  you

how desperate he is? You will not be safe until Gala elects  a  governor.  And

that governor will no doubt be under his control, so you will not be safe even

then. Giba will go to any lengths to  get  what  he  wants.  We  think  he  is

poisoning Queen Veda."

Elan paled. Qui-Gon's belief in her surged again. She looked  shaken.  "I

told you, the Queen is nothing to me," she murmured.

"I know you lied about your mother," Qui-Gon said quietly. "She worked at

the palace. Can't you admit the possibility that  the  Queen  is  telling  the

truth? I fear she is being punished because she shared that truth with me, and

with you." Elan turned her face away. She stared at the trees.

"Gala will fall without you," he said. "I must return. Come with me. Take

a stand."

Elan's eyes were stormy as she turned back to face him. "I will not be  a

princess," she warned.

"Nor should you be," Qui-Gon replied. "Elan is enough."

He couldn't feel his feet. Obi-Wan slipped off his boots and rubbed  them

to restore circulation. He had been locked inside the freezer for  hours  now.

He had kept walking continuously in order to keep warm. He had called  on  the

Force and visualized it as heat as well as light.

He slipped his boots back on. He reached into the  inner  pocket  of  his

tunic for the river stone Qui-Gon had given him on  his  thirteenth  birthday,

when he had officially become his Padawan.

The stone felt warm and he rubbed it between his palms.

He knew he was growing exhausted. He could not keep walking  forever.  He

closed his eyes, sending  a  Force-amplified  message  to  Qui-Gon.  I  am  in

trouble, Master. Come back.

What was Deca Brun planning? Did he realize that he was in league with  a

corrupt corporation that would plunder  his  planet?  Did  he  know  how  evil

Xanatos truly was?

Obi-Wan's biggest worry was that Deca would contact Xanatos and tell  him

he had a Jedi locked in his freezer. Once Xanatos  heard  Obi-Wan's  name,  he

would know that Qui-Gon was near.

And once Xanatos knew that, he would try to trap Qui-Gon. He had sworn to

destroy him.

Obi-Wan had to escape. He had to warn Qui-Gon that Xanatos was involved.

He heard faint noises outside  the  freezer  door.  Perhaps  someone  was

coming to release him! Obi-Wan sprang to his feet. He pressed his ear  against

the door, ignoring its coldness.

The voices came to him dimly. He used the Force to help  him  screen  out

the other noises: the constant hum of  the  freezer,  his  own  breathing.  He

focused on what was happening outside.

"I don't care," someone said. A boy's voice. "I've got my job, too.  I've

got a turbo cart full of meat here to deliver. It's already  paid  for.  There

will be no meals for a week if I don't get it in that freezer. You can  answer

to Deca Brun. I won't."

"No one goes in or out," the guard answered gruffly.

Obi-Wan focused the Force like a laser. Then again, we all need to eat.

"Then again, we all need to eat," the guard  said.  "Don't  move,  there!

I'll push it inside."

Obi-Wan heard the lock fall away. He  stepped  away  from  the  door.  It

opened, and a cart began to roll toward him, completely filling the doorway.

Obi-Wan sprang forward. He pushed against the cart with all his strength,

again using the Force to help him. The heavy cart shot back, straight into the

guard.

The delivery boy gave the cart an extra shove as it flew by.  It  slammed

against the wall, pinning the guard. He let out a  cry  of  anger  and  pushed

against the heavy cart. It didn't move.

The delivery boy took off his long-billed cap. It was Jono.

"Nothing like teamwork," he told Obi-Wan, grinning.

"Thanks for the rescue," Obi-Wan said gratefully.

They ran down the hall and  burst  into  a  deserted  office.  The  faint

streaks of a rising sun filtered through the window. Obi-Wan hesitated.

"My lightsaber," he said. "And my comlink - "

"We can't search now," Jono interrupted. "They'll all be here  soon."  He

tugged at Obi-Wan's elbow. "Prince Beju has jailed the  Queen.  She's  refused

all food. I'm worried, Obi-Wan. I think she's dying. Come on!"

***

An early-morning hush lay over the city. The gray light was  tinged  with

pink. Galacians were beginning to stir. Cafes were beginning to open along the

main boulevard as they hurried by.

"I spoke to the other Council members," Jono told Obi-Wan. "It was a risk

I had to take. They want you to meet with them to discuss  what  to  do  about

Giba. They've formed an alliance against him.  Imprisoning  the  Queen  was  a

mistake. Giba and Prince Beju have gone too far."

"First I have to see someone," Obi-Wan told Jono.

Jono shot him an incredulous look. "But there's no time to lose. Today is

election day, Obi-Wan!"

"This is important, Jono," Obi-Wan said firmly. "I have to  stop  at  the

substance analyzer's. If he's identified the agent, we'll have proof that  the

Queen is being poisoned. We need that proof."

Jono shook his head.  "We  can't,  Obi-Wan.  The  Council  Ministers  are

waiting. I promised to bring you there immediately."

"If we know what is poisoning the Queen, there  might  be  an  antidote,"

Obi-Wan argued.

Jono bit his lip. "But..."

"It's this way," Obi-Wan said, pointing down a side street. He turned the

corner, knowing Jono would follow.

It was only a few quick minutes to Mali Errat's lab. It was shuttered and

dark, but Obi-Wan pounded on the door. Mali stuck his head out of a window  on

the second story. His fringe of white hair made a wispy halo around his head.

"Who is it?" he roared. "Who comes so early in the morning!"

"It's me, Mali!" Obi-Wan called. He stepped out into the street  so  that

the technician could get a good look at him.

"Impatient  young  man!  Where  have  you  been?"  Mali  cried,  pounding

excitedly on the windowsill. "I have your results. I'll be right down."

Seconds later, the door opened. Mali stood in the doorway in his unisuit.

A datasheet fluttered in his hand. "I am a genius!" he proclaimed.

"What did you find?" Obi-Wan demanded.

"I searched every record of chemical agents in the  galaxy,"  Mali  said.

"Every engineered compound, every secret poison, every chemical... and do  you

know why I could not find your agent?" Obi-Wan shook his head impatiently.

"Because it was a natural agent!" Mali roared.

"What a surprise! Who uses them anymore? No  one!  It  is  dimilatis.  An

herb! It grows in the sea plains of Gala. A pinch or two is harmless. But  the

local people know that if it's dried, and used in certain  concentrations,  it

mimics the effect of a wasting illness. Ultimately fatal, of course."

"If it grows on the sea plains of  Gala,  it's  probably  in  the  palace

gardens," Obi-Wan said, thinking.

"Come on, Obi-Wan, let's go," Jono urged. "We have to tell the Council."

"Is there an antidote?" Obi-Wan asked.

Mali held up a vial. "I have made one up. It will cost you..."

Obi-Wan stuffed all his credits in the  elder's  hands.  He  grabbed  the

vial. Urging Jono to hurry, he raced toward the palace.

Jono led Obi-Wan to a part of the palace he'd never visited, high in  the

tower overlooking the gardens.

"I need to get to the Queen," Obi-Wan said impatiently.

"They told me I should bring you here," Jono said nervously. "The  guards

are on the lookout for you. You'd never make it. They will bring  you  to  the

Queen."

Obi-Wan moved to the small window. He looked down at the leafy top  of  a

great lindemor tree. Below it spread the orderly rows of the kitchen gardens.

"Do you know the gardeners well, Jono?" he asked. "Are  there  any  among

them who would plot against the Queen?"

"I don't know," Jono said.

"They would have to know  a  great  amount  about  herbs,"  Obi-Wan  said

thoughtfully. "Or what about that council member  with  the  blue-white  eyes?

He's always in the gardens."

"Viso is the Queen's staunchest supporter," Jono said.

"A council member would have access to  the  Queen's  chambers,"  Obi-Wan

said thoughtfully. "But still, it would be strange if he brought food." Access

was the key, he knew. The poison would have to be  brought  to  the  Queen  by

someone above suspicion....

The thought shot through him like a laser. The green below him  became  a

blur to his eyes. Jono. His friend was the only one  who  had  access  to  the

gardens and to the Queen. Qui-Gon had been right. Sometimes  the  obvious  was

the answer.

Jono had said he missed the sea. The poison had come from the sea plains.

He had the daily duty of picking flowers for the Queen's bouquet. Easy to pick

a bit of dimilatis, too. And Jono was the one to deliver the  Queen's  nightly

tea, as Qui-Gon had pointed out.

Obi-Wan turned. Jono backed up a step.

"What is it, Obi-Wan?" he asked. A look of concern was on his  face,  but

Obi-Wan sensed his nervousness.

"It was you, wasn't it, Jono," Obi-Wan said  gently.  "You  poisoned  the

Queen."

"Poison the Queen? I could not do such a thing!" Jono cried. "You know it

could have been anybody!"

"But it wasn't," Obi-Wan said. "It was you."

Qui-Gon had often told Obi-Wan that he was often not in  touch  with  the

living Force. But now Obi-Wan could read his friend's guilt as  clearly  as  a

sensor. He saw desperation and fear in Jono's eyes.

And something else: anger.

He said nothing, just kept his eyes on Jono.

Slowly, the  mask  of  innocence  dropped  from  Jono's  face.  "And  why

shouldn't it be me?" Jono asked softly. "Thanks to  you  Jedi,  I  was  almost

exiled from the palace!"

"But to kill the Queen..." Obi-Wan started slowly.

"Don't you understand, Obi-Wan?" Jono cried. "This is  all  I  have!  The

Dunns have been part of the royal family for generations. It  is  what  I  was

trained for, bred for. The honor of my family depends on me."

Jono threw out his hands pleadingly.

"The Queen depends on you," Obi-Wan countered. "Your job  is  to  protect

her!"

Suddenly, Jono's face flushed with anger. "She would have turned  me  out

into the streets," he said. "Once Deca Brun  is  elected,  he  will  hire  his

people as servants. And where will I go? What will I  do?  Should  I  have  to

become like everyone else? Yes, I am a servant. But I live in  a  palace!"  He

flung the last word out proudly.

"Jono," Obi-Wan said sadly. "I trusted you."

The anger left Jono's face. "Then you made a mistake,"  he  said  softly.

"You are my friend. I like you, Obi-Wan. But I guess I like living in a palace

more."

Obi-Wan turned at the sound of  footsteps.  Giba  was  coming.  He  would

certainly be imprisoned or killed.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," Jono said. "Truly."

"Save your sorrow," Obi-Wan said, striding to the window.  He  leaped  up

onto the ledge and judged the distance to the ground. It was too far to  fall.

But the Force would guide him. "I don't need it," he  said.  Then,  he  leaped

into midair.

The dazzling green of the lindemor  leaves  rushed  up  at  him.  Obi-Wan

gathered the Force from the living  things  around  him,  centered  it  inside

himself. He flew across the distance and grabbed at a lindemor  branch  as  he

fell. His fingers closed around it, and he swung forward, using  the  momentum

to grab at the next branch down.

Then to the next, and the next, until it was an easy leap to the ground.

He didn't bother looking up. Giba was most likely already  summoning  the

royal guards. He had to make it to the Council Chamber without being seen.

Obi-Wan slipped inside the kitchen door. He ran past the startled  cooks,

burst into the pantries, raced past the dining areas  and  found  the  hallway

leading to the wing where the Council Ministry offices were located.

The halls were deserted. Obi-Wan raced down the stone  corridor,  wishing

he had his light-saber. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps moving  at

double time. He ducked into the first room he saw.

He closed the door  behind  him  and  pressed  himself  against  it.  The

footsteps hurried past.

He let out a breath. Safe. For the moment.

He was in some sort of royal reception  room.  An  ornate,  gilded  bench

stood on a platform at one end. Rows of chairs faced it. Glittering tapestries

were hung on the walls. Antique weapons were displayed behind the bench.

There was another door at the far end of the room. Obi-Wan headed for it.

He turned the handle and began to cautiously pull it open. Even as he did  so,

he felt it push from the other side. It flew open with  the  combined  effort,

and Prince Beju tumbled into the room.

He found his footing immediately and turned with flashing  eyes  to  Obi-

Wan.

"Hiding like a coward, are you? It's no use. The guards  are  everywhere.

They can be here in an instant." Prince Beju strolled  toward  the  series  of

tubes that called guards and servants. He reached toward the red tube.

"You talk of cowards," Obi-Wan said coolly,  hiding  the  desperation  he

felt. If Prince Beju touched that tube, he was lost. And  so  was  the  Queen.

"And yet you summon the guards."

Prince Beju hesitated. "Are you calling me a coward, Jedi?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I am only drawing a  conclusion.  Since  I've  arrived

here, you've spoken of me as a coward. But  there  has  always  been  a  guard

within your call. What do words mean when they are contradicted by actions?  I

have faced you alone, but you only face  me  with  others  who  will  do  your

fighting for you. Am I the coward?"

Prince Beju flushed an angry red. His hand dropped. He strode to the case

displaying antique weapons. He lifted the top and drew one out.

"Do you know what this is, Obi-Wan Kenobi?" he asked, flourishing it.

"It is a sword," Obi-Wan answered. He had never used the weapon,  but  he

had seen drawings of it at the Temple. It was like a lightsaber, only made  of

metal.

Prince Beju held the sword up, then slashed downward at a  tapestry.  The

rich fabric was rent in two.

"We keep the edges honed," he said. "I studied swordfighting as  part  of

my royal training. My father insisted." He feinted a blow at Obi-Wan, who  did

not move.

"Do you think you could manage one?" Beju asked. "Or  does  a  Jedi  only

fight with his own weapon? That way he always has the  advantage."  His  teeth

gleamed as he smiled tauntingly at Obi-Wan.

"Why don't we find out?" Obi-Wan asked, keeping his tone neutral. He  had

to keep his mind focused on the battle ahead. He could not  let  the  Prince's

jibes get under his skin.

Beju took another sword from the case and tossed it  at  Obi-Wan.  Before

his fingers had closed around the hilt Beju sprang  forward  with  a  downward

blow. Obi-Wan had time to twist away, but not before the sharp  blade  slashed

his tunic. He felt blood run down his arm.

"Had enough?" Beju asked mockingly.

In answer, Obi-Wan lunged forward. The clang of metal  rang  through  the

air as Beju parried his blow.  Beju  pushed  back  against  him.  Obi-Wan  was

surprised at how strong the boy was. He was in much better shape than  Obi-Wan

would have guessed.

Beju pressed forward, slashing at Obi-Wan, who  parried  each  blow.  His

lightsaber training helped, but he was not used to the shock that traveled  up

his arm each  time  their  swords  tangled.  The  sword  was  heavier  than  a

lightsaber, and his timing and footwork were off because of it.  Beju  pressed

his advantage, driving forward, his sword glinting as it slashed  through  the

air. For the first time, Obi-Wan had his  doubts  that  he  could  defeat  the

Prince at his own game.

Doubt in battle, there cannot be.

Always, in times of trouble, Yoda's teachings rose in his  mind.  Belief,

there must be. Belief, in the Force. Reach for it, you will.

Yes, he had an advantage that Beju did not. Obi-Wan reached  out  to  the

Force. He felt it build within him. Doubt left him. Belief rushed in. He would

win because he had to win.

The sword suddenly felt familiar in his hand. Its weight was  reassuring,

not strange. He leaped up on the royal bench and swooped  down  on  Beju,  the

sword held high, then low, stabbing, jabbing, surprising the Prince  with  his

moves. Beju staggered back, his sword held defensively, trying  to  stave  off

the fury of Obi-Wan's attack.

Obi-Wan's mind was clear. It was not clouded with hate or bitterness.  He

needed to stop Beju. He struck again, trying to  loosen  Beju's  grip  on  his

sword.

But the Prince rallied. Anger drove him, and anger backed by skill can be

a powerful ally. Beju launched an offensive at Obi-Wan. He  struck  again  and

again as Obi-Wan repelled the attacks, feeling the power of Beju's blows  move

up his arm. His shoulder began to ache.

Sweat rolled down Obi-Wan's face. Beju lost his  footing  and  staggered.

They had been fighting for some time now. Prince  Beju's  face  was  red  with

exertion. Obi-Wan could feel his opponent's  exhaustion.  He  hoped  it  would

cause Beju to make a mistake. He launched himself at Beju again. Obi-Wan drove

him toward the corner. Now Beju was at  bay,  unable  to  evade  him.  With  a

downward blow, Obi-Wan dislodged the sword from Beju's grasp. The Prince dived

for it, his hands closing around the hilt as Obi-Wan leaped over  a  chair  to

prevent him.

A voice behind them cracked the silence. "Enough!"

A hooded figure moved within their vision. He wore the silver robes of  a

Council Minister. Obi-Wan recognized the elder  whom  he'd  seen  mysteriously

appear and disappear in the gardens. "You will lose, my Prince. Anyone can see

that."

"I will not lose!" the Prince howled, just as Obi-Wan's foot came down on

his wrist, preventing him from grasping his sword.

"Besides, Viso," the Prince snarled, "how can you tell if  I  will  lose?

You're blind! You can't even see your own hand before  you."  Obi-Wan  studied

the elder more closely. He realized for the first time  that  his  milky  blue

eyes were sightless. With a swift movement, Obi-Wan reached down and  snatched

Prince Beju's sword from the floor.

"I saw you were losing some time ago," Viso said quietly. "This battle is

not the point. You have denied the truth for too long. When a man  does  this,

he loses."

"Stop talking in riddles, old man," Prince Beju said,  rolling  over  and

rising shakily to his feet. "Your stories have always bored me."

"Queen Veda has not lied to you, my Prince," Viso replied, serene in  the

face of Beju's  rudeness.  "But  your  father  did.  Giba  did.  The  men  you

worshipped lied to you. The mother who bore you did not."

"Get out!" the Prince screamed. "I will have the guards throw you in jail

for your lies!"

"Then you will have to prove that I lie. Don't you want to see  my  proof

first? Are you brave enough to face it?" Viso asked in the same calm tone.

Obi-Wan looked at Beju. He saw that the Prince could not back down.  Viso

had maneuvered him into a corner as surely as Obi-Wan had in battle.

"Fine, old man," the Prince sneered. "Show me what you  call  proof.  And

then I will have the great satisfaction of throwing you in the tower jail."

Viso bowed. He gestured for them to follow him. He led them  out  of  the

chamber, through another  grand  meeting  room.  He  led  them  into  a  small

antechamber beyond.

The room was completely empty. The walls and  floor  were  of  pale  blue

stone. On the floor an intricate  design  of  interlocking  squares  had  been

traced in silver imbedded in the stone.

"Stand in the small square in the  center,  please,  Prince  Beju,"  Viso

said.

Prince Beju looked suddenly nervous. "The square within the  square,"  he

said. "My father spoke of this. He never explained it. He said... he said when

I was strong enough to face what it meant, I would be ready."

"AncTare you strong enough?" Viso asked.

Prince Beju positioned himself in the center square. As soon as his  feet

hit the square, the walls began to  glow.  Obi-Wan  watched  in  amazement  as

slender beams of golden light suddenly washed over Prince Beju in a flurry  of

shifting patterns. He could not identify where they came from. They seemed  to

arise from the air. Then Obi-Wan noted that although the glittering beams cast

shadows on the floor and walls, there was no shadow or mark on Beju.

"You see," Viso said quietly. "There is no Mark of the Crown on  you,  my

Prince. That is for another. You are not the heir."

The Prince stepped  off  the  square.  The  beams  of  light  disappeared

immediately.

Obi-Wan expected the Prince to bluster,  to  say  it  meant  nothing.  He

expected him to rail at Viso, call the elder a fool or a liar.

But the Prince did none of those things.

He slowly sank to his knees. His head dropped into his hands. Obi-Wan saw

his shoulders shake.

Viso drifted closer to stand at Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Everything  he  knew

has been taken from him," he murmured quietly. "You must help him, Obi-Wan."

Then Viso glided out, leaving Obi-Wan alone with the weeping Prince.

Help Prince Beju? Obi-Wan didn't even like him. Just  moments  ago,  Beju

would have cheerfully stabbed him through the heart.

But Viso was right.  Beju  had  lost  everything  he  knew,  everyone  he

worshipped. His father was his hero. Giba had replaced him. He had nothing  to

believe in anymore.

Obi-Wan crouched a short distance away  from  Beju.  "Your  father  acted

honorably at the end of his life, Prince Beju," he said quietly. "He  revealed

his deception. Your mother forgave him because he regretted what he had  done.

Sometimes regret is all we can give to those we wound."

Beju wrapped his arms around his knees. He kept his head down.

"My Jedi training tells me that to absorb a blow is to begin  to  recover

from it," Obi-Wan continued softly. "Now you must decide what is best for  you

to do. Do you want to rule Gala as Prince?" He didn't  expect  the  Prince  to

answer. But Beju raised his head. He fixed his reddened eyes on  Obi-Wan.  The

trace of tears was still on his face.

"I don't know what I want anymore," he whispered. "I don't know anything.

"

"You are still Prince," Obi-Wan pointed out. "Elan does not want to rule.

Until the elections, you are  the  Queen's  rightful  heir.  So  you  have  an

opportunity. You can act like a Prince  -  you  can  rescue  your  mother  and

imprison Giba. If you are voted down by the people, you can leave a government

that is still functioning and strong."

"Giba told me that the people would vote for me in the end," Prince  Beju

said numbly. "He told me that there was great affection for  me.  But  when  I

walked through the city I saw the truth in my people's eyes and  I  could  not

face it. What can I do now? Today is election day."

"You can stop him," Obi-Wan said firmly. "He only  wants  to  retain  his

power. He'll do it any way he can. If the people hear that the  elections  are

not free, civil war could result. You must ensure that the elections go on."

Prince Beju frowned. "Giba is too smart to depend on me."

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked.

He shrugged. "He would have a backup plan. Perhaps he has already ensured

another way to win...."

Obi-Wan felt discouraged. Things at the  palace  kept  doubling  back  on

themselves. There was intrigue piled on intrigue. He wished Qui-Gon were here.

Just then, they heard the sound of shouting in the  streets  outside  the

palace. Obi-Wan sprang up and headed for the Council Chamber. Beju followed on

his heels.

They hurried to the window. Hundreds - maybe thousands - of  people  were

heading down the hill into Galu. Some of them were on swoops.  They  herded  a

battalion of the royal guard, who marched between them.

At the head of the group rode a woman, her silver hair  streaming  behind

her. Next to her rode Qui-Gon. Galacians were spilling out into the street  to

see the sight.

"Whatever plan Giba has, it's over," Obi-Wan told Beju. "The hill  people

are coming to vote."

***

Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan waiting for him at  the  palace  gates.  His  heart

lifted at the sight of his Padawan.

"I tried to reach you on the comlink," he told him.

"I was unavoidably detained in a freezer," Obi-Wan said with a  grin.  "I

see you convinced Elan to come after all."

Qui-Gon nodded. "When the royal guard attacked, she knew she  was  needed

here. Where is Giba?"

Obi-Wan led Qui-Gon back into the palace.  "Prince  Beju  has  issued  an

arrest order. He can't avoid the guards for long."

"Prince Beju?" Qui-Gon asked, puzzled. He  hadn't  expected  Beju  to  go

against his ally.

"He realized that Giba wasn't to be trusted," Obi-Wan said.  He  frowned.

"I just hope it isn't too late  for  the  Queen.  I  sent  a  medic  with  the

antidote, but she's very weak."

"You've been busy, Padawan," Qui-Gon  told  him,  giving  him  a  nod  of

approval. He had wondered about Obi-Wan's ability  to  handle  things  at  the

palace. When he hadn't been able to contact him, he'd been worried  that  he'd

left his young Padawan with a situation beyond his abilities. Obviously,  Obi-

Wan had met difficulties and obstacles, and had surpassed them.

"You were right about Jono," Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear it."

They entered the Queen's reception area. Prince Beju stood  waiting.  "Is

Elan with you?" he asked Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "She has gone to see Wila Prammi. I can arrange a

meeting for you, if you wish."

The Prince frowned. "I do not know yet," he said  hesitantly.  "First,  I

must set things right here. Giba is being arrested as we speak."

"I think not!" Giba said, striding into the room. He  waved  a  durasheet

containing his arrest order. "This is signed by Prince Beju.  It  is  invalid.

You do not rule Gala, Prince." Giba gave them a chilling smile. "And you never

will.

When the Queen dies, another will take her place. Not you."

"I'm not dead yet." The Queen stood in the  doorway.  She  had  to  brace

herself against the frame, but she stayed erect, her chin high. "Guards!"  she

called in a weak voice to the two guards flanking her. "Arrest him."

From beneath his robes, Giba drew  forth  Obi-Wan's  lightsaber.  Qui-Gon

started in surprise, but in less than a moment he activated his own.

"I do not think it wise to fight  a  Jedi  with  that  weapon,"  he  said

pleasantly to Giba.

"I do not care for your opinion," Giba said,  lunging  toward  him.  Qui-

Gon's lightsaber was a blur of green as he expertly dodged Giba's clumsy blow,

turned, and struck downward on  Giba's  wrist  with  a  backward  motion.  The

minister was disarmed and down before anyone could take a breath.

Qui-Gon handed Obi-Wan's lightsaber back to him. The guards moved forward

to arrest Giba.

"Wait," Giba said desperately. "You do not have to recognize the  Queen's

order. For years, you have come to me for orders. Obviously, the  royal  house

is out of control. Did you not see what has happened? Elan has arrived with an

army! Civil war is at hand. There is only one hope. We must throw our  support

to Deca Brun. It is too late for elections now. If you let me go, I will bring

him here."

"And why would Deca Brun listen to you, Giba?" Prince Beju asked.

"Because I am a wise  and  trusted  Council  Minister,  dedicated  to  my

beloved Gala," Giba snapped.

"Where did you get that lightsaber, Giba?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I found it in the palace, of course," Giba replied.  "You  were  fleeing

from the guards and dropped it."

"I don't think so," Obi-Wan said. "A  Jedi  doesn't  leave  a  lightsaber

behind. It was taken from me by Deca Brun's men."

"I wouldn't know about that!" Giba snarled. "And I do not know  what  you

are accusing me of."

"I am accusing you of being in league with Deca Brun," Obi-Wan  answered,

his tone firm. Qui-Gon looked at him, surprised. Was Obi-Wan bluffing, or  did

he have proof?

No one had noticed Jono slip into the room. "It is  true,"  he  spoke  up

quietly. "Giba was afraid that the Prince would lose the election. He went  to

Deca Brun with a deal. He would  find  him  money  and  support  from  sources

outside of Gala."

"Offworld," Obi-Wan said. "I saw the records in Deca's campaign office."

Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan, surprised again.  "You  have  been  busy,"  he

murmured.

"In exchange, Deca would find a place for Giba in  his  new  government,"

Jono finished. "Giba would not take the chance that he would lose his power."

"Arrest him," the Queen repeated faintly.

The guards slipped electro-cuffs on Giba's wrists, and he was led away.

"It's over," the Queen said.

Beju crossed to her. He slid an arm around her shoulders, supporting her.

"Except for the voting," he said. "Let the people decide."

***

Wila Prammi was voted Governor of Gala by an overwhelming margin.  Prince

Beju dropped out of the race and threw his support to her. He got out the word

about Deca Brun, revealing his alliance with Giba and Offworld. After  talking

with Wila, Elan supported her as well, bringing her the votes of all the  hill

people.

The celebration  that  greeted  Wila's  election  spilled  out  into  the

streets. City people and hill people joined in cheers and  song.  Though  Gala

had been in danger of revolt, they  had  achieved  a  peaceful  transition  of

power.

There was nothing left for the Jedi to accomplish on  Gala.  Qui-Gon  was

also concerned about the news that Xanatos had been involved in doings on  the

planet. His former apprentice must know by now that Obi-Wan and  Qui-Gon  were

the Jedi who had been sent as guardians of the peace. His old enemy could come

in search of him. Qui-Gon could not endanger the peace on Gala. It was  better

to disappear into the galaxy.

Qui-Gpn went to the Queen's chambers for his last audience. He found  the

Queen standing at the window looking out over Galu. She wore a dark blue  robe

of shimmersilk. She wore no jewels, and her long hair was braided simply.  The

signs of illness still dimmed her beauty, but Qui-Gon saw new signs of  health

in the slight color of her cheeks and the clearness of her eyes.

"I have been granted something unique, Qui-Gon, and something I  did  not

expect," she said. "I will be alive to see my legacy play out. Beju will  find

a better life." She gave a rueful smile. "He doesn't realize it quite yet, but

I have no doubt of it. Gala will be free and at peace."

"I spoke to Elan," Qui-Gon said. "She is returning to the mountains,  but

she's forged a bond with  Wila.  I  don't  think  she'll  isolate  herself  so

completely again."

"I, too, spoke to Elan," the Queen said. "She's a remarkable young woman.

She hasn't agreed to take the name Tallah, but she's considering it. She'd add

it to her parents' name, of course. Stubborn to the last."

"And Jono?" Qui-Gon asked. "Obi-Wan is concerned about him."

"Even though Jono betrayed him," the Queen said. "It is good for  all  of

us to forgive. Jono will be punished - or at least the  boy  will  see  it  as

punishment. He is being sent back to his family and will learn farming.  He'll

be like everyone else now."

"And perhaps he will learn something about the uses of freedom,"  Qui-Gon

observed.

"I hope so," the Queen agreed quietly. "I hope we all  do."  She  studied

Qui-Gon for a moment.  "Things  have  ended  well.  You've  accomplished  your

mission. Yet you seem sad."

"I do feel sadness," Qui-Gon admitted. "I've  tried  to  understand  why.

Sometimes our own hearts can be such a mystery."

The Queen nodded. "Just ask Beju," she said. "My son is just beginning to

understand himself."

"I have been thinking of what I will leave behind when  I  die,"  Qui-Gon

said. "I travel from world to world. My connection to  each  is  so  fleeting.

What is my legacy?"

The Queen smiled. She extended her arms to take in the city of Galu below

them. Outside, Qui-Gon saw people heading to work, gathering in  the  squares,

talking on street corners. It was a peaceful, busy scene.

"This," she said gently.

She said nothing  more.  But  Qui-Gon  understood  every  nuance  of  her

meaning. For the first time since he'd landed on Gala, resolution  beat  again

inside him, steady and strong. As a Jedi, he left behind justice and honor. It

didn't matter if his footsteps would disappear, or if years from now no one on

Gala remembered that two Jedi had helped to ensure a peaceful  transition  for

their planet.

They would remember peace, and that was enough.

And he had Obi-Wan. With every mission, he was more  convinced  that  his

Padawan would become extraordinary, even among the Jedi. What he taught  would

live on. That was legacy enough.

And certainly, there were still more legacies to be found.

Qui-Gon had been with the Queen for some time now.  Obi-Wan  sat  in  the

Council Chamber with Elan and Beju. The two did not speak to each other.  Viso

had asked both of them to meet him in the chamber. Obi-Wan wondered  what  the

Council member was planning. Viso entered the room. He threw back his hood and

looked at them with his miiky blue eyes, eyes that couldn't see but still knew

where to look.

"Thank you for coming," he told them. "I want to show you something.  You

too, Obi-Wan."

They followed him into the blue-waJled antechamber. Viso directed Elan to

stand in the middle of the middle square.

As soorv as her feet hit the mark, the power source in the walls began to

glow. Beams of light shot out. Elan's silver hair picked up the lights, making

a  silver-blue  halo  around  her  intent  face.  The  golden  beams  suddenly

surrounded her, whirling faster and  faster.  Then  they  diffracted  into  an

explosion of dancing light. Elan appeared to glow. And then, Obi-Wan  saw  it.

The outline of a crown fell on her heart.

"You see, Elan Tallah?" Viso asked. "You are Princess Elan."

Elan looked down at the shadow on her chest. She touched  it,  then  held

out a hand and observed the golden light dancing on her skin. Then she stepped

off the square. The beams retracted. The walls  dulled.  The  room  became  an

empty room again.

"The last princess," Elan said.

Viso turned to Beju. "May I escort you back to your chamber, my Prince?"

Beju swallowed. He shook his head. "My name is Beju," he said.

Elan smiled as she held out a hand. "Come, brother. Let us walk together.

"

Obi-Wan watched as Elan and Beju left the chamber together,  followed  by

Viso.

Elan and Beju had both changed their whole notions of what  was  left  to

them by their parents. They had both forged a new path,  taking  up  a  legacy

based on their characters, not their positions. That, Obi-Wan decided, was the

true mark of greatness.

He, too, was on a path he had not foreseen. The Jedi Code was as  much  a

part of him as Tallah heritage was to Elan and Beju. His  ties  were  no  less

important.

He had found something unexpected on this mission, Obi-Wan  realized.  He

had a renewed sense of purpose.

When he turned, he found Qui-Gon standing in  the  doorway,  waiting.  He

wished he could tell Qui-Gon about his renewed commitment, about the questions

he had struggled with while Qui-Gon was away, questions about his  legacy  and

what that meant.

But his Master seemed so stern. Obi-Wan knew  that  Qui-Gon  was  already

anxious to depart. Their next mission awaited them. Qui-Gon would tell Obi-Wan

that he needed to focus on that. Ahead lay new questions, new struggles.

Always more questions than answers, there are, Yoda had said.

Qui-Gon interrupted Obi-Wan's thoughts. "It is time to go," he said.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I am ready."