Mobius Strip

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Jedi are George's. They just spent a year in my brain rent free.
Summary: Short novel.
Archive: Jediprudes, if someone else is interested, just ask.
Feedback: PLEASE! I spent a year of my life on this. Good, bad or indifferent.

It was a small blue and green planet frothed with white clouds.

Although it was one of almost a dozen girdling an average yellow star, it was the only one teeming with life. Small ice caps frosted each of its two poles which were only slightly inclined from being perpendicular to its orbital plane. Upon its axis it rotated from east to west causing its sun to appear to rise in the west and set in the east. Its orbit around its star was elliptical although nearly circular, there being a only a few million kilometres difference between its aphelion and perihelion. Currently, the small planet had passed its spring equinox position in its revolution.

Several large continents were set in wide oceans. The oceans knew nothing of tides since there was no moon in orbit around the small world to tug at them. The majority of the land was in the temperate zones and thus the planet had few arctic tundras or tropical jungles. Mountain ranges were rare and well-eroded giving testament to the fact that the planet's tectonic forces were almost non-existent. With few mountain ranges to wring the rain from the moisture-laden ocean breezes there were few windward rainforests or leeward deserts. Artell was a planet of seemingly endless grasslands.

The small planet seldom had off-world visitors since neither cities nor spaceports dotted its surface. Therefore, there was no one to witness the sudden appearance of a red Republic space cruiser out of hyperdrive and its slow decent into the clouds over the largest of the world's several continents.

The ship landed in a sea of grass. As far and as wide as the eye could see and even beyond that was flat and even. The grassland was a bright green broken only by a generous salting of white flowers. It was the type of green with a hint of yellow. The green of spring and new growth. From horizon to horizon, the unending grass extended unbroken and undulating in the wind. The spring thaw had finished, but the air was cold. A northern wind swept across the plains causing the two figures that had emerged from the spacecraft to wrap their brown hooded cloaks tightly to their bodies.

Underneath their voluminous robes they were also similarly clad in hues of brown. Trousers were tucked into tall, calf-length boots. Wide-sleeved, loose-fitting layered tunics were secured by sashes about their waists, which in turn were topped with belts from which were attached a variety of pouches and a lightsabre.

The taller of the two was a large man, impressive in size and strength. Looking out of his hood was a handsome mature face adorned with a full beard trimmed short. Hidden by the hood, long flowing hair already threaded with grey was kept in check by a gather in the back. He looked out with penetrating blue eyes.

The second of the two, although shorter in stature, was well-muscled on his more compact frame. He was energetic and agile. His clean-shaven face was youthful and unlined having only just entered adulthood. His hair was close-cropped excepting one lone braid behind his right ear.

They were Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master and Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan learner.

***

"What do you mean they're gone?" I growled at my co-pilot.

"Didn't you hear me?" he roared. "I said, they were standing there scanning with their macrobinoculars one minute and the next, they were running off."

"How should I know?" he screamed as he lifted his arms into the air in frustration.

"They know we're behind schedule." I paced the deck pounding my feet into the metal. "We should leave them here, it would serve them right. Did they take their bags?"

"No!" my co-pilot barked as he bent down to look out the hatch. "This place makes me nervous. Where are all the trees? There isn't one *kriffing* tree!"

"They make me nervous," I grumbled. "Always calm and quiet. You never can tell what they are thinking. You notice they hardly ever talk to each other?"

"I'm going to throw their bags outside," my co-pilot decided as he stormed toward their cabin. I heard the sound of another dent being made in the bulkhead.

***

ArMistal nudged me in the side with his elbow and nodded his head towards the south. Casually looking in that direction, what I saw seared itself into my memory.

Running hard, the two figures were covering ground quickly. They burst upon us with legs pounding the ground and arms pumping, each with a lit lightsabre in hand. Leaping higher into the air than seemed possible, the pair came stabbing down, driving their lightsabres completely through their first two victims.

Striking out in unison, they cleaved through bodies relieving them of assorted parts to rest smoking on the ground. While cutting them down, the Jedi whirled about deflecting the few bolts of blaster fire managed to be squeezed out.

They were a study in contrasts. Long-flowing earth-toned robes swirled about their bodies as they wielded weapons of bright-coloured shafts of light.

***

Working in tandem, Obi-Wan engaged the several surviving assailants alone, while I focused on the woman's predator who was about to be successful with his perverse plans. Raising my right arm palm out, I summoned the Force, driving the man off her. He flew through the air and landed hard on the ground.

Now free, the screaming woman ran to me and buried herself deeply in my robes pressing her body close to mine. I had no choice but to hold her while her assailant took off on his waiting animal.

The naked woman in my arms was shapely and well-proportioned.

Her back, which curved gracefully, ended in wide hips and long legs. She felt firm, but supple. For a woman she was tall, yet even then the top of her head reached only to my chin. I thought her long brown hair smelled fragrant. And that she was beautiful.

Enveloped in my arms the hysterical woman had stopped screaming, but her breath came in hyperventilating gasps. Quaking in fear, her entire body quivered.

I, like all Jedi, respect the privacy of one's thoughts and rarely intruded into the minds of others, but the woman was in such need of comforting that I didn't think twice about it. First, gently, touching the edges of her consciousness I then probed deeper, calming her. In spite of her overwhelming panic, her breathing soon became deeper and slower. I continued to comfort her until her trembling stopped.

***

I had long since dispatched with the remnants of the woman's attackers and was now staring transfixed at the position I found my Master in. All men have an area surrounding them that few except intimate friends encroach upon. As was afforded to a man his size, Qui-Gon's extended further than most. That he was a Jedi, expanded this already substantial amount of personal space, as most view our presence as formidable. Few people dared intrude into it.

Becoming self-consciously aware, I gathered the woman's strewn clothing. When she at last untangled herself from his embrace, I, while looking at the ground, was holding her clothes out for her.

As she re-dressed, we retreated from her to see to the injured men. Stepping over the bodies of the dead, we scanned the scene before us as my Master listened to me critique my own performance, adding his own observations.

Bloodless, the dismembered pieces of the corpses lay about having been severed off with our cauterizing blades. Several limbs still wafted smoke into the chill of the air. The scent of burned hair and charred flesh and bone mingled with ozone. Two of the bodies had been decapitated by my preferred stroke.

Since this was not the first time we walked by the results of our carnage, I assumed we looked as if we were unaffected. This was far from the truth. The two of us did not relish killing, it was never lightly executed, and we took no delight in it. The Jedi order is one of peace and defending life and it was this that comes naturally to us. Dictated by the evil we encountered, it determined the necessity of our actions.

Now past the dead, we reached the two injured living. The long, lanky brown-haired man, ArWrenik, was of the same generation as I and his shorter, lighter-coloured companion, ArMistal, was a decade older in his thirties. Both had hair that surpassed my Master's in length, tied back to drape as a single tassel down their backs. The pair of faces sported thick full beards. Their wounds were not life-treatening, but they were not superficial, either. They needed tending.

Beyond help was the third man of their group, lying upon the ground.

***

Now decently dressed, the woman approached us. Her round face was bruised and cut. Her age I could now see was beyond that of my apprentice, nearing closer to mine.

Her clothing was almost like the two injured men's. A dark, long and deeply-vented weather-proof overcoat covered her riding gear. Underneath was a high-necked jacket in a sea-green and ocean-blue cloth, thick to warm against the cold. It differed from the men's only in that it was cut to accommodate a woman's body.

She had done her best under the circumstances to make a presentable appearance.

"Tesia, Cantra and Tamagra greet you," she said.

I at first thought that those were her's and the men's names until three equine-like animals neighed.

"As do Nomedrace, Mistal and Wrenik," she continued in Basic, but pronouncing the words with an endearing accent and stringing the words together with a strange cadence.

There were three more neighs.

//She's introducing us to the animals,// Obi-Wan thought to me.

Staring straight at the animals now, I really hadn't paid much attention to them before. They were single-hooved, equine-like animals with smooth short coats with short manes, no forelocks and long tails. Wide-spaced eyes and large round ears topped a long head that ended in a soft whiskered muzzle. Two small rounded horns protruded from their heads. Their long legs ended with long hair almost like feathers about their fetlocks. They were large being nearly a metre and a half at the withers.

Six of them were adorned with the same blue and green cloth. In fact, they were some of the most decorated animals I had ever seen. Blue and green ribbons were braided into their tails and manes. Bells hung at the edges of the cloth. They wore bitless bridles hung heavy with tassels of blue and green. Rings of bells encircled their fetlocks. Head-dresses of white plumes waved in the wind.

I concluded these were the ones to whom we were being introduced, as the dozen other animal gathered there were merely wearing functional saddles and bridles.

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master and this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"My father sends this message," she then stated. At once, her face went blank and she stared straight into my eyes.

"Greetings, Jedi. I, ArRegenth, Herd Stallion of the Household Tangeth, welcome you to Artell. We hope that on your journey the ground was even, the food was plentiful and the water was sweet. I am honoured that you have troubled yourselves to take an interest in our insignificant problems. I humbly apologise to you for distracting you from your more important concerns. I respectfully implore you to follow my daughter, ArTesia, to my camp where I will be able to greet you personally. Mgoki ithenti ting orathanaltart mgarthal shir tworathar tantass. May your stallions be swift and strong and your mares have many foals."

Having relayed her message ArTesia's face now assumed a wan smile. "I am ArTesia," she said, at last introducing herself.

***

As we listened to ArTesia start to give her father's message, we watched the two Jedi as I held my arm and ArMistal nursed his leg. Scored by blasters during our ambush, the painful burns stung. I pictured in my mind the concerned looks and tender care ArLinnote would lavish on me. It nearly made the injury worth it.

I chastised myself immediately for finding comfort in that thought as the vision of ArLinnote's face disappeared and ArKnapina's visage replaced it. As my gaze turned to the body of her dead husband, ArNomedrace, my mind's eye depicted the grief that would be etched there.

As ArTesia finished ArRegenth's long-winded message, I looked back at our rescuers.

The larger, older one, Master Jinn, was calm and serene, while the smaller, younger one, his apprentice, seemed to be trying to keep himself in check although he looked like a throwbow wound tight, ready to explode into action at any moment.

Master Jinn's hair was of normal length, but his apprentice looked like he just went through a renaming ceremony. I dropped my eyes to his right hand. No, all there.

I couldn't examine his arms as they were covered, but their clothes were neutral colours not associated with any Household. I deemed that would be an asset in our negotiations with Household Tangol.

ArTesia finished and I spoke up. "While we were traveling en route to your ship," I explained. "We were ambushed." I paused for a moment. "And ArNomedrace killed."

"As your landing site is between our Household and ArRegenth's encampment," I continued pointing to each direction in turn. "He couldn't have imagined that he was putting ArTesia or us in danger."

Although injured, we where loathe to leave her to return ArNomedrace's body to the Household, but were convinced by Master Jinn that ArTesia was safely in his charge.

As we draped ArNomedrace's body across his mournfully whinnying artang, ArTesia comforted the dark bay gelding. Stroking its head, she cooed soft words of shared sorrow until we led it away.

***

I led Cantra and Tamagra over to the two Jedi.

I held out Tamagra for the apprentice since she was the smaller of the two. At the sight of my bay mare, he hesitated. "Don't worry, if you don't know how to ride," I assured him. "Tamagra knows the way."

But then lifting himself easily up and over her, he gave me a strange look and eased himself into the saddle.

Master Jinn was already astride large Cantra by the time his apprentice had settled on Tamagra. The tall Jedi's long legs necessitated that the stirrups be lengthened. Adjusting the straps, I inspected the positioning of the Jedi Master's legs. "Here," I said as I moved his heels downward. His legs were a different story though. Way too forward, I motioned with my hand for him to move them back. He complied, but not enough. Hoping he wouldn't mind, I had to move them back into the correct position.

"ArTesia," Master Jinn stated in his deep voice with a strange accent. "We first need to return to our ship and tell our pilots they are free to go."

"And get our bags," Obi-Wan added.

Had they not been outside the starship, my attention would have been focused on it for I rarely see such craft, but I had never seen the likes of them. With the two Jedi's traveling packs tossed carelessly on the ground, the two large, furry beings were pacing in front of the ship.

I remained behind with my nervous mares watching the interaction between the two species.

The long-limbed, hairy creatures towered over the human Jedi. They were gesturing wildly at the two calm Jedi who stood there arms folded across their chest with arms tucked into the wide sleeves of their robes. The angry sounds of their strange language reached my ears, but I couldn't understand a word they said nor could I hear the words of the Jedi.

Their confrontation ended, the two beings stomped up the ramp of the ship as the two Jedi picked up their traveling bags. Smiling inwardly, the picture of my aunt came to my mind.

"What were those things?" I asked.

"Our pilots," Master Jinn replied.

"Yes, but what were they?" I inquired again.

"Wookiees," answered his apprentice with a grin.

As the red starship ascended into the atmosphere, we were already well on our way across the sea of grass.

As we rode across the plains herds of talyssen with their long drooping ears would raise their heads from their grazing and bolt away, flocks of long-tailed warnassa took to flight and the small, long-haired brinths would scurry away. We even saw a woolly partolin with its long dewlap and short, sharp-pointed horns. It had stood its ground watching as we passed by.

Master Jinn quizzed his apprentice on the animal's names and characteristics as we encountered them. The diversion helped to take my mind off the grim happenings of the day.

"Does your planet have the same animals?" I asked wondering why the Jedi Master was questioning his apprentice even though it seemed as if they were familiar with the animals.

"Coruscant?" The Jedi apprentice shook his head and chuckled. "No."

"Then how do you know their names?"

"While we were in hyperspace," Master Jinn explained as he pointed to a small mammal that was bounding away. "We studied the flora and fauna of Artell from datacards."

His explanation was as clear as mud. *I wonder what datacards are?*

"Capica," the apprentice identified. "Grassland habitat while abundant in numbers lacks the diversity of species other habitats boast."

He made it sound as if he was praising my planet while at the same time humbly dismissing his knowledge. Though I know there are far more wondrous sights in the galaxy, nevertheless, I am proud of my world. I was impressed both with their knowledge and that they had bothered to put forth the effort acquiring it.

"Will we see any dunt wolves?" Obi-Wan asked. for he said he had seen pictures from the datacards he had studied and wanted to see one in person.

"I hope not." I shuddered. "My father likes to hunt them in the western wilds, perhaps he will take you on one of his hunts."

Obi-Wan then stated that he only wished to see one of these animals, he didn't want to hunt one down and kill it. I didn't say anything to this, but I thought it was a strange attitude.

The journey to my father's camp was not a short one and more wildlife was seen. On disturbing a rather large herd of the wild cattle, Master Jinn pronounced the name of the bovines with enormous curved horns by stressing the first syllable. As it sounded funny, especially with his strange accent, I laughed.

"No, it's Char-lon-is," I corrected him.

"Char-lon-is," he repeated as he smiled at me, now saying it properly.

"Are all the animals here white?" Master Jinn asked me.

"Yes." The answer was obvious, but I had a feeling that he was leading up to something else.

"But your artangs are not," he observed while looking at my three mares.

I took a deep breath before I answered. "Our artangs are not native to Artell. Neither are we. They came with us when we came here many generations ago. All the native animals are white. We know not why."

(Or care,) Cantra added.

I laughed at my chestnut mare's disdainful superiority.

Master Jinn caught my stress of the word animal and asked if the artangs were sentient.

"Didn't those 'datacards' tell you about our artangs?" I questioned curious as how they knew about everything else, but not something as important as that.

"I'm afraid when we prepared ourselves for the trip, we didn't check the file on Artell. The datacards on your language, history and culture were missing from the pack."

I knew that other off-worlders did not understand us and our artangs. I had hoped that these Jedi could perceive our relationship, but I found myself explaining that the artangs were more than animals and that we, the Ar, were in essence part artang, that we couldn't live without them.

Master Jinn nodded thoughtfully and his apprentice gave me a look that told me he didn't understand a word I said. I was about to go into greater detail hoping for comprehension, but explaining it, I had found, was often like describing colour to a blind person and my artangs were still on that subject.

(Their lack of colour is boring,) added Tamagra continuing about the native animals.

(Narthen isn't boring,) huffed Tesia in defense of an artang stallion.

(But Narthen isn't all white,) Cantra added.

(That's not what I meant,) Tesia stated.

"We know what you meant," I informed her.

(I like this large stallion with the green fire,) said Tesia changing the subject slightly.

(He could probably...) Tamagra added playfully.

I knew where the conversation was headed. "You are the rudest..." I managed to squeezed in.

(Am not,) Tamagra butted in.

The two Jedi stared at each other.

I knew that Jedi had these mystical powers that father was always talking about, being able to read minds and other things so I assumed they could hear my mares unlike other off-worlders and so I trying to make them behave and be polite.

I was, as usual, not having much success.

(He doesn't feel that large to me,) Cantra added.

(He's not an artang,) Tesia said in the Jedi Master's defense.

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," I stated, exasperated.

Suddenly, I realised that the two Jedi had only been hearing my part of the dialogue to my relief and consternation. By the looks on their faces a quick explanation was necessary.

"They're... uh... the mares... they are being complimentary," I said mostly being truthful.

"You can talk to them?" Obi-Wan asked.

I nodded my head.

(The small one with no hair is but a colt,) Cantra remarked.

(Yes, he is too young,) Tamagra agreed.

Obi-Wan shifted his weight in the saddle suddenly looking uncomfortable. I had the sinking feeling that he knew he was being talked about.

***

"We're almost there," ArTesia stated reassuringly.

Whether or not she was talking to us or her artangs, I did not know, but after several hours' ride often hearing only one half of a conversation, I and my Master had gotten used to it. We had run out of animals to identify and he started humming in his head that ditty of his. When he does this, I don't know which of us is more entertained, myself, at finding the ribald tune funny or him, amused at my amusement.

Shortly, the encampment of ArTesia's father came into view. Tents of blue and green were all flying banners of the same colours and a herd of artangs were assembled there as decorated as the ones we were riding. A chorus of loud whinnies greeted us and our mounts answered. Many men were about and they were dressed in the same riding attire as ArTesia. Although all were armed with blasters and throwbows or arrowlances, it did not have the look of a war party.

As we approached, a man came toward us flanked by attendants. Of average height, he projected a larger stature by his mere presence. He radiated power. As silver as his bushy beard, the hair on his head had long gone grey, but it was still worn long, tied in the back so that it looked like a tail. He was ArRegenth, Herd Stallion of Household Tangeth and father of ArTesia.

Dismounting, we gave small bows of greeting with my Master introducing ourselves once again. ArTesia had hung back and was slowly sliding off her mare with her back to her father. Her father warmly greeted us by embracing each of us in turn. I was dumbfounded. Twice in one day my Master had been embraced.

"Welcome, Jedi, to Artell," the man proclaimed. "Regenth greets you. I am ArRegenth, Herd Stallion of the Household Tangeth."

He shot an irritated look at ArTesia's back. I could tell he had planned to make an impressive greeting with us, but here he was introducing himself. Sometimes when a person has strong emotions they broadcast their thoughts and I can hear what they are thinking without reading their minds. He thought, //Why is she fiddling with her mare? Why isn't she front and centre?//

From her conversation on our trek here, I knew how much her father was looking forward to meeting us. It seemed he so admired Jedi, it bordered on awe. I could tell she didn't want anything to spoil that and one look at her bruised face would ruin his delight.

"I was beginning to worry," ArRegenth remarked. "You are much later than I expected. Was my daughter not at the appointed time and place?' His dark eyes darted from us to ArTesia. I could tell that he could not bring himself to question us and that he was in a quandry, therefore, he questioned his daughter's punctuality, not really believing she was at fault.

"The greeting party was delayed through no fault of their own," said my Master absolving ArTesia of guilt, while at the same time leaving it ambiguous as to who was to blame. I knew Qui-Gon had not failed to notice ArTesia's delay in facing her father and his questioning looks in her direction. He knew her reason and allowed her the time to face the situation when she was ready.

ArRegenth was not satisfied. "And my message, did she deliver it?" He gave another quick look to ArTesia's back.

She turned from her artang and walked over to her father with her head held high. The expression on her face revealed her thoughts. //It's now or never.//

"Sentence for sentence and word for word," she stated as she walked.

The expression on her father's time-worn face changed at the sight of her bruised and cut one.

My Master quickly related to the Herd Stallion how we came upon the greeting party. How it had been ambushed and attacked leaving one of his men killed and the two others injured. He did not need to tell of ArTesia's near violation. Her face told those details.

At the conclusion of Qui-Gon's description of her attackers, a tall, dark-haired man standing by ArRegenth gasped, "ArMarth!", putting a name to the evil.

"Ptamge wrijoor artang inerarst lochella ghanty utheam!" ArRegenth bitterly hissed through clenched teeth. I had the impression this was the worst curse the man could utter. ArRegenth then added sadly, "The colt has the colours of his stallion."

I cast a look at my Master and thought the same thing. //Household Tangeth also had problems with the man's father. A clan feud.//

***

The cold north wind had stopped. As the sun approached the horizon in the east and then finally disappeared, innumerable stars began to appear in the darkened sky.

ArRegenth, Herd Stallion of the Household Tangeth, stood facing one of his men. The man stared straight into his eyes with the same blank look ArTesia had given Qui-Gon as she had related ArRegenth's message to him. ArRegenth was now sending the man back to the Household with a message as the man's artang stood ready. When he was finished he asked the man, "Know you my words?"

The man replied, "Sentence for sentence and word for word." As the man rode off on his artang, ArRegenth turned to us and stated, "We will be returning to our Household tomorrow."

A large campfire was already blazing and the aroma of roasting meat wafted into the night air. It smelled delicious, we hadn't eaten since that morning and I was hungry.

To my relief the Herd Stallion said, "Come, let's eat and we can talk." He was still trying to be a gracious host. We sat with the man and were served large portions of a roasted jarren his men had hunted earlier in the day and a type of bread suited to travelling, but delicious still.

Flagons of ale meant to wash down the simple meal were handed to us. Qui-Gon rarely drank, often refusing when it was polite to do so. I cast a look in his direction and was pleased to see him already sampling the local brew. It gave me permission to do so also. I was of a different opinion than my Master on the subject of drink. //Not lomin-ale, but it's good. Strange colour though - amber.//

ArTesia tended to her mares for quite some time and thus was the last to join the group already making short work of the meal. Those few who where talking did so in hushed tones. The good-hearted camaraderie that was usually seen at such gatherings was dampened. As she seated herself, all talk ceased. Eyes dropped to their food as if it was the most interesting thing they had ever seen.

"How do you fare, my daughter?" ArRegenth asked tenderly, but formally, as all assembled were listening.

"I am well, father," she replied.

Out of respect for the Herd Stallion and his daughter, no one had spoken of what was on everyone's mind. It was up to ArRegenth to broach the subject. "Thank you for saving my daughter," he stated softly yet loud enough for all to hear. More words than that could not have improved the sentiment his voice conveyed.

As we finished the evening meal, ArRegenth briefed us on the situation at hand "Household Tangish has a village with a market place. From time to time, an off-world trader will land there to do business. When I had heard that such a ship had landed, I went to him to see if he could send a message to the Jedi. He stated that his communication systems were not working properly, but as he was travelling to Coruscant for repairs he would relay my appeal to the Jedi Temple personally. Since the man did not know how to take a message, I don't know how much of it you received."

I noticed a slight disdain in the man's voice when he said 'did not know how to take a message' and interpreted this to mean the trader did not know how to memorise a message. We had witnessed the method the people of Artell used twice already.

"We are having much difficulty with Household Tangol. It lies to our west," ArRegenth continued as he indicated the direction with his arm. "As our two Households are closely related, I wish no bloodshed. I implored the Jedi to send one of its own to mediate."

"Yet, there were two artangs waiting for us," my Master pointed in the direction of Cantra and Tamagra and the other artangs. "How did you know there would be two of us?"

"We have had other visits by the Jedi and always they came in pairs," ArRegenth said.

The man had correctly assumed that two would be the number, but such was not always the case. I noted the hint of cockiness in the man's voice at having guessed rightly at our number. And for the visits themselves. I wondered what past troubles the man had that needed Jedi intervention or if the current difficulties were extensions of the previous.

"We would have been honoured with only one of you, but two is doubly so," ArRegenth continued now more modestly. "We are grateful."

Accepting the man's gratitude, my Master nodded.

"We were to meet with ArMarth, here, near the borders of our two Households to discuss our differences. As Jedi are renowned as guardians of peace, I hoped you would be able to help us come to an amicable agreement. Unfortunately, it seems that ArMarth has changed his mind about meeting with us." At this last statement ArRegenth looked over at his daughter's abused face. "It now looks like we need your help more than ever."

As we listened intently to the Herd Stallion's words, my Master stared at the ground with the eyes of all upon him. I knew the look they were giving him and that he had seen it many times before. Too many times. It was the hopeful look that the Jedi would come to their rescue. As conflicts go, this one was not significant in the overall scheme of the galaxy and he had seen many more dire circumstances over his years of service in the order. Nonetheless, he knew it was important to these people. It looked like a huge weight descended on his shoulders and he suddenly looked very small and tired.

I also felt that ArRegenth was leaving something out of the story he had just related. Most of the time we weren't given the entire picture anyway and usually it turned out to be an insignificant embarrassing detail only to those involved. I hoped that this was true in this case. I put it out of my mind. My Jedi senses told me that what ArRegenth had said was truthful from his point of view.

Now looking around him, my Master confirmed with his eyes what I already knew. One set of eyes, however, was staring at him differently. He caught her eyes and held them. My Master promised he would do all that he could to help the man.

The mood now lifted with my Master's pledge, one of the men produced a set of pipes and began to play a soft haunting tune. Another of the men joined in as a third started to sing the words to the song. It then changed tempo becoming quicker and more upbeat. We did not understand the words as it was in the native language of the people, nevertheless, the story was quite clear. It was a hunting song and the prey was a dunt wolf.

"Brother?" ArTesia now spoke after the last notes had cleared the air. "The Jedi had asked about dunt wolves. Would you tell the story of your last hunt?" She pointed to the necklace of white fangs hanging at his throat.

Her brother, ArDenik, though taller than his father and his hair still dark was a younger reflection of his father. There could be no doubt as to his sire. It was he who had gasped the name of ArMarth. I listened intently watching the man's hands punctuate the story. He had the same habit of stroking his beard as did my Master. However, this man's beard was full and long.

I looked about me to confirm what I had just comprehended. I was the only full-grown male in the company that was free of facial hair. In fact, my Master's face was the least impressive in the fullness of its decoration. I know myself and my traits do not include a lack of confidence in my masculinity, however, I suddenly faced the uneasy feeling of lacking in the area of adult male characteristics.

The story, which the men assembled had all heard before, but still loved to hear, was an exciting one full of close calls. ArDenik told it well. I enjoyed the story as it appealed to my moral code - the dunt wolf had killed several cattle and was endangering lives.

Qui-Gon also listened, but not as intently as I did, as I could tell he was more interested in the way the firelight was being cast upon ArTesia's face.

At the conclusion of his story, the dunt wolf having been slain, ArDenik picked out one of the large white fangs arrayed around his neck to display in confirmation of the story. Excepting his father's, ArDenik's set surpassed in number all of the ubiquitous adornments.

ArRegenth said turning to us, "I am sure our stories pale in comparison to the wonders you have seen. I would be honoured with a story of your own."

My Master is an introspective, thoughtful man not given to idle chatter. However, he is superbly skilled at story telling. He thought for a moment looking like he was running through his memory like a datapad and selected an adventure he and I had that the people of Artell could relate to and appreciate.

He told the tale of a place that was forested with massive trees with lofty tops that scraped the sky. A forest deep with its floor in shadow and the race of small furry beings that lived in those trees. His rapt listeners knew of trees, but few had ever seen a forest proper. He wove a story so rich that they could imagine themselves there among the huge towering trees and the small Ewoks.

ArTesia, too, had been entranced I noticed. She watched his every movement. I knew she had been transported there with Qui-Gon.

He told the tale about a place called the moons of Endor.

"What is a moon?" she asked the story now finished and her curiosity aroused.

As he looked up to the stars and the moonless sky, Qui-Gon thought for a moment and gave the best answer she could relate to. "A moon," he said now looking directly into her eyes. "Follows its planet like a foal follows its mare."

***

The camp awoke at dawn to the sounds of approaching hoof beats. The men of the camp reached for their weapons with the exception of my Master and I. Through the Force, we sensed their arrival before the others had heard it. The approaching group did not have an evil intent. Now seeing the blue and green clothing of the riders, the men relaxed.

Entering the camp was a small group of women escorted by two men. They were ArTesia's three sisters-in-law. Hearing the news of ArTesia's attack, they had come to see her. Their husbands, ArTesia's brothers, were not pleased.

ArDenik, the oldest of ArTesia's brothers, after accepting his wife ArGen's kiss in greeting, told her, "You shouldn't have come. It's too dangerous to leave the Household. Especially in your condition." He glared at her and then past her to the other two women directing his statements to all three women.

Although younger than ArTesia, he was ArRegenth's oldest son and carried himself with the same powerful presence as his patriarch. I perceived that the man was ready to assume the mantle of leadership.

"But, from what I've heard, you were born not far from here." The obviously pregnant, brown-eyed blonde pointed out. "Besides, we came to see how ArTesia is. And make breakfast," she added with a sly wink.

It was clear that ArDenik loved his wife dearly and rarely refused her anything. "Well, since you are here..." he relented now drawing her as close as he could and finishing his sentence by kissing her passionately.

Occasionally casting a look in our direction, the four women conversed softly as they prepared the morning meal.

Breakfast finished and downed with hot mugs of jaffa, a dark, bitter aromatic drink not unlike caf, we helped the men begin to decamp. As we took down the tents and packed them on the artangs, the four women stood in a small circle giggling like girls and casting furtive glances at us.

The three women had not come so much as to make breakfast, but to see Jedi.

Qui-Gon ignored it, long ago used to the excitement we sometimes caused. I, however, could not help myself and made sure I walked near them.

One of the women whispered a rumour to her co-conspirators.

To amuse the women, for I had overheard, I nonchalantly unhooked my lightsabre, ignited it with a hiss-crackle and examined the length of its buzzing blade up and down as if to check on it. I nodded appreciatively at it.

Satisfied, I quenched its blue flame, flipped the hilt up and over in the air with a quick snap of my wrist, caught it and reattached it to my belt in one smooth movement. Playfully, I smiled knowingly at them and walked away.

The four women exploded in laughter.

My Master had seen my little demonstration and though he liked to pretend he thought things like that were undignified, I knew he had a juvenile tendency as much as I did, if not more. Smiling at my humour, he shook his head.

***

Once packed, we mounted the artangs and rode eastward toward my Household with the morning sun to our backs. My eldest son led on his stallion Denik. *My father would have been heading the other way and if my son had his way we would also be headed toward Tangol. But, that's just what ArMarth wants. Nevertheless, ArDenik will do a fine job of leading this Household once I am gone. Tangeth will be in good hands. Now that he has settled down, I hope to see many grandchildren from him, too. ArGen has been good for him.*

My other two sons, ArSeng and ArOrham rode by his side. *A man couldn't ask for anything more than these three.*

I followed behind with the two Jedi wishing to speak with them further about our problems. My daughter and daughters-in law followed behind with the rest of my Household bringing up the rear.

*Maybe, I should turn around, return with his head. No, that's what destroyed Household Tangimer. No, calling the Jedi was right. They've already proved that.*

*If only yesterday's events hadn't happened,* I thought to myself. *Life couldn't get better than this - surrounded by my family, astride my beautiful sorrel, Regenth, and the Household colours in full display as we make our way across the grasslands.*

But it wasn't long before it started, again.

(He's heavy,) Cantra whined.

"Would you make up your mind about him?" ArTesia rebuffed her mare.

(I'm tired.)

(We just started,) Tesia stated.

(I'm still tired.)

(I'm tired of hearing you complain,) Tamagra lamented.

(I should complain, you aren't carrying him,) Cantra countered giving her head a shake over her shoulder at Master Jinn on her back.

(That is quite enough!) Denik commanded bursting into the mare's conversation and thankfully putting an end to it.

On our way, our colourful parade passed grey stone ruins overgrown with grass. Horizontal planes of a several-storied section cantilevered out from the central core, giving the entire edifice the appearance of being suspended in air. For underneath the structure flowed the run of a spring. Adding to the floating effect, the large building with its open terraces, esplanades and loggia did not so much surround the central courtyard as it hovered about it.

As our group passed, each of us made a sign to ward off evil and I did likewise making a fist with my right hand and touching it to my forehead. I wished the building's makers, the Elasium, as we called them for we didn't know what they had called themselves, good fortune. "May their stallions be swift and strong and their mares have many foals."

At the time Master Jinn said nothing, but once we were past and the ruins out of sight he stated to me, "ArTesia told us the Ar are not native to this world. Yet, those ruins look very old."

I told him as much as I knew of the Elasium and a little about ourselves. "It is true. We are not of Artell. We are adopted sons. Long ago we, the Ar and our artangs, came on ships like those that brought you here. Ships that travel through space. The ruins were already here. Where their makers went or what became of them we know not, for we found this world empty of both the living and the graves of the dead. We have reconstructed many of the ruins for our own Households, but we are few and many yet remain as we found them. As you saw them there. We honour their makers' memory and hope that they found better pastures. If not, every winter at the solstice we hold a ceremony of the dead in their honour."

Talking about the Elasium always made me a bit edgy so I added, "I hope that on their journey the ground was even, the food was plentiful and the water was sweet."

As we were now on the outskirts of my Household proper, our herds grazing contentedly came into view. As we passed by, a few of the shaggy white animals would raise their horned heads still chewing slowly looking at us with only mild interest before lowering their heads once again to resume their grazing.

"We have many healthy calves this year," I proudly pointed out to the Jedi as I swept my hand toward the herd.

"Aren't those charlonis?" Master Jinn asked me. "We saw some earlier."

"Those were wild charlonis," I explained. "These are domesticated... mostly. These are cows and steers. The bulls can be unpredictable. We keep them only for breeding."

Once having said that I wished I could take my words back since I knew ArTesia's mares would have something to say about that. But to my surprise, the mares were silent still chagrined by Denik.

"What's this?" she goaded her mares. "Nothing to say?"

*Please, ArTesia, leave well enough alone.*

(Like Cantra said, they're boring,) Tesia said softly and quickly not wanting to risk the stallion's ire again.

As Denik turned his head back over his shoulder to glare at Tesia, I was sure that if an artang could frown, he would have.

Three young boys were tending this herd. Galloping at full speed toward us, they waved enthusiastically. I knew that their tedium was great having done my fair share at their age and that the boys would have been just as enthusiastic over any diversion. Nevertheless, theirs was an important job and it kept them out of trouble. *Which ever one of my ancestors thought up this arrangement was a genius.*

My eldest son raised his right arm into the air. My youngest, ArOrham, looking hard at the approaching youths pulled down his arm. The two had a short exchange of words before ArOrham took off in the boys' direction. As he neared the boys, one of them called out gladly "Dad!" My youngest son and oldest grandson came to a standstill, lined up their mounts and raced for home to announce our impending arrival.

The other two boys continued toward our travelling party and pulled up their artangs sliding just short of colliding with the Jedi. They now bombarded them with questions.

"Are you really Jedi?"

"Did you come on a starship?"

"Can I see your lightsabres?"

The pair of Jedi didn't seem to mind and cheerfully indulged the boys' curiosity, answering questions and smiling back at them warmly. Disposed to humour the youth's disrespect or not, I couldn't allow the Jedi to be so subjected to their interrogations.

I angrily bellowed at the boys, "You two need to return to your duty, now. I will not have my guests treated so rudely by impudent colts."

The two boys were crestfallen, but hesitated still not wanting to leave.

"Now!" I insisted.

The boys stopped their artangs' forward motion, allowing us to pass by before they turned back to their charges at a slow walk.

Devoid of its blanket of green, the deep, rich-brown soil emerged as we entered neat, even rows of small trees. Riding single file now between two of its rows, we followed the deeply implanted hoof prints of the preceding father and son. I loved our orchards and wood lots, not that I didn't like the open plains, it was just that they were a change of pace. Miniature pinnate leaves emerged from the tips of their branches, as they had just awakened from their winter dormancy. I knew that they would be in flower soon. Master Jinn mounted on Cantra I noticed was just barely topped by the trees. *Perhaps just seeing the size of this man will scare ArMarth into his senses.*

As the orchard abruptly ended, the complex of buildings that comprised my Household appeared. Of a similar design as the passed ruins, the cantilevered levels of the several-storied Household gave the illusion that its stone rectangular sections were levitating over both the land and the watercourse that ran under it. Unlike the ruins we passed, my Tangeth, with its walls of glass and stone, gleamed in the afternoon sun. Fronted with an arcade of rectangular arches, it was hung with banners of our sea-green and ocean-blue colours. *It's beautiful.*

We dismounted in the courtyard which was empty, but should not have been. I heard a commotion in the opposite direction, toward the stables. "What is going on?" I demanded.

Two of my men trotted off to inquire, but I followed anyway to see for myself. My sons and the two Jedi followed my lead with ArTesia in tow. Entering the stable, I headed toward the sounds of the trouble. Striding down the main passageway, I looked down each wing both to the left and to the right where series of stalls were on each side of the long aisles. Several aisles down the main passageway, a small crowd had gathered around one stall. My people divided into two halves to make way for me with my sons and the Jedi in my wake.

The stable was a riotous madhouse of noise. Artangs were whinnying wildly as several yelling men were simultaneously trying to get ropes under the gelding while avoiding its flailing hooves. The large chestnut gelding was stuck in the corner of its stall, cast, unable to get up since it couldn't get its feet under himself.

The gelding was frantic even though the small girl was doing her best to calm her artang. Its instinctive ancestral memory was working against it since as prey, as opposed to being predator, they depended on flight rather than fight in response to a threat. The panicked artang was thrashing about trying to get the leverage, trying to get its feet under himself, to rise to safely. In doing so, it was cutting itself with its own hooves. Deep gashes were already apparent on its belly.

Master Jinn stepped forward. "Stop," he ordered the men in the stall and motioned for them to back out. "Leave the stall."

Once the stall was cleared of the men, he lowered his right arm with two fingers extended and then lifted it upward. As he did so the artang rose in the air. Backing up, the Jedi caused the gelding to move out of the corner toward him, freeing the chestnut of his entrapment. Master Jinn slowly lowered his arm and the artang was gently replaced on the solid floor of its stall once again.

The chestnut gelding, now able to gain purchase of the ground, heaved its heavy weight onto its four legs. He shook as much to dislodge the bedding from his coat, as in relief of his freedom.

The stable was now as quiet as it had been noisy. No one could trust their eyes. The girl now rushed into the stall hugging her artang's neck with all her might. The small girl whispered to the large chestnut before looking at Master Jinn.

"Timpanoth says, 'Thank you.' "

"Tell Timpanoth he's welcome." Master Jinn smiled broadly.

It was my eldest son who thanked the Jedi Master now. "It seems that our family is indebted to you once again."

"I am but the messenger, it is the Force that is the message. Be not indebted to me, for the Force is life and it is not a debt. It is our responsibility."

"Message?" ArDenik asked.

"Sentence for sentence and word for word," Master Jinn replied clasping my son's arm.

The stable now calm, we resumed our heading toward the main house, crossing the courtyard. As we climbed up the steps to the arches, the apprentice stared hard looking up at the hundreds of artang tails covering our arches hanging by blue and green ribbons and waving gently in the breeze as Master Jinn ducked to avoid brushing his head with the longest.

Inside the arcade, I found ArPorijhan directing two helpers laden with food stuffs. By the looks of them, they had just arrived themselves. I approached her with a smile on my face hoping for the best.

"ArPorijhan, I'm glad I caught you, the banquet will be tonight."

"Tomorrow," she said looking at me only briefly before turning her attention back to the youths.

My smile faded. "Our plans have changed," I explained trying to sound firm and pleading at the same time. *Please, ArPorijhan, not in front of our Jedi guests.*

"My plans haven't," she stubbornly said now looking at me defiantly. "The remangut I just brought from Household Tangor will take all day to prepare."

"Make something else," I said through gritted teeth.

"Impossible," she countered.

"Old woman, the banquet will be tonight or... I'll banish your artangs from the stables!" I promised her.

The grey-haired woman paused and weighed the odds that this would come to pass and decided not to take her chances. "Yes, brother," she conceded storming away. The two youths hurried to keep up with her.

Once she was out of earshot, I muttered under my breath, "Old nag."

But my tribulations were not over for as soon as my sister had departed, almost as if on cue, ArKnapina exploded into the arcade. Eyes red and face wet, her mother-in-law and sister-in-law were trying to hold her back. Breaking free of them she advanced toward me as one of the women pleaded with her, "ArKnapina, please, don't." But she ignored the pleas as the woman was bent on confronting me.

Screaming at me that her husband was dead, only the sight of my sons taking a half step forward intimidated the raving woman from doing so in my face.

"And it's all your fault!" she spit the words out with venom.

"ArKnapina, I grieve with you," I managed to get out before the woman continued on her tirade.

"You should have killed the bastard when he was born! Why aren't you out there hunting him down now!?" she demanded of me.

"ArKnapina, what would you have had me do? Left him out for the dunt wolves to find?" *If only I had.*

As if she had heard my thoughts, ArKnapina shrieked, "If you had, my husband would be alive now!"

My heart went out to the woman and I grieved with her, but there was nothing I could do to remedy this situation. Not even the Jedi could bring back the dead. "ArKnapina, I'm sorry," I said gently. I could think of nothing else to say to the distraught woman. In her state, there was nothing to soothe the torment.

She started to repeat, "You're sorry?" over and over while increasing her volume with each repetition.

My eldest son stepped forward, his patience, I knew, now exhausted. "Enough, woman!" he bellowed at her. "The Herd Stallion, being sympathetic with you grief, has been indulgent with you long enough. But your disrespect is intolerable." Motioning to the two cowering women to remove her, they immediately retrieved ArKnapina and pulled her away, as much frightened of ArDenik's anger toward ArKnapina as they were of it being turned on them.

*Maybe I should just spend my time hunting and let him take care of everything.*

"ArTesia," I said wearily in my daughter's direction. "Would you be so kind as to show our guests to their rooms?"

"Yes, father," she said obediently.

I got the impression from the way she said it that she not only wanted to re-establish my threadbare sovereignty, but also because she wanted to.

***

Eyeing our need to remove the accumulated dirt of our travels, ArTesia led me and my Padawan up a stone stairway to a second floor of the Household. The level was open and filled with light, for interspersed with rectangular columns of rough-hewn gray granite rock were walls of glass. She stopped in a room at the far end of it.

"You can bathe here. There's soap, towels..." she said slightly embarrassed while pointing the items out. "Just leave your clothes in the basket and they'll be washed by tomorrow."

I thanked her with a smile that put her instantly at ease.

"Now, your rooms."

She led us back across the level to two adjoining rooms. On the side opposite their entrances were glass-paned doors within its wall of quadrangle-shaped windows. They led to wide verandas that overhung the courtyard and faced the stables beyond. Gone was the ever present green and blue, in its stead the rooms were decorated in clean white. Diaphanous curtains draped the glass. As sheer as the window coverings were, the beds were blanketed in a mound of white billowy softness. In each room, our respective travelling bags rested atop these, having been delivered to our rooms for us. Serving as a rug for the bare stone floor, the shaggy hide of a charlonis lay in each of the rooms continuing the white motif. A wardrobe faced the beds on the opposite stone wall. The rooms had a table and chairs, but no desks I noticed.

"I'll come to get you when dinner is ready," she said, yet she paused briefly in her departure. Shutting the door behind her, she left us to ourselves.

It was after some time that Obi-Wan finally emerged from his submersion in the bath. Still towelling off his wet hair, paying particular attention to his braid, he entered my room. I had long since scrubbed clean and donned fresh clothes. I sometimes wondered if my Padawan had hidden gills somewhere on his body and was actually part fish as much as Obi-Wan liked to soak in hot water.

He fell backward bouncing once on my bed, arms spread-eagle. He wanted to talk.

//Comfy, huh?// he announced, not really expecting an answer. //We've seen worse. What did you do to get back in the good graces of the Council? Usually, we're sent to some wretched hive.//

Obi-Wan was clearly pleased with his surroundings, glad to finally be off an artang.

I looked out the window, the view while not spectacular, was sufficiently high enough to give a wide vista of the surrounding land.

//I wonder what's for dinner?// Obi-Wan continued in his one-man dialogue, being used to my terse company. //I hope it's good.//

If there was on thing that surpassed his consumption of hot soapy water, it was food. Obi-Wan had a voracious appetite.

Now sitting propped up by his elbows, Obi-Wan looked at me. //Master?// he now asked, expecting an answer. //I've been thinking. ArTesia was talking, communicating with the artangs, yet we... I could not sense anything.//

I paused for a long moment carefully considering my words.

//I sensed nothing either. Nonetheless, she and the artangs must be attuned to a part of the Force we are not aware of. I do not feel that the artangs are sentient beings by themselves, but rather are more of an extension of the Ar. They are more like two halves of a whole rather than two separate parts. When they talk it must be more like talking to yourself rather than someone else. We, on the other hand, do not have this relationship, therefore, that is probably the reason we cannot hear the artangs.//

Obi-Wan considered my words thoughtfully and then said, //Maybe, now that we are aware of this part of the Force, we can learn to become attuned to it.//

//Perhaps, Obi-Wan,// I answered my Padawan. //Perhaps.//

***

When I knocked softly on the door to Qui-Gon's room I received no response. Knocking louder and opening the door slowly, I found the now clean Jedi Master and his Padawan facing each other, eyes shut, sitting cross-legged on the floor. I stood silently studying Qui-Gon's serene face while waiting for them to acknowledge me. The picture of innocent, sleeping children came to my mind. But I knew that they were far from harmless, having witnessed their intense wrath. I had long ago decided he was a handsome man, but this was my first opportunity to gaze at him unobserved by others. His prominent nose fit his face I decided. I liked his strong features, the power that was there, under restraint.

***

I came out of my meditation first, feeling her eyes upon me. I kept my eyes shut for a while letting her still continue to study me. When I did open them, I caught her eyes and held them as Obi-Wan emerged from his and we rose to our feet together.

"I'm sorry," she said apologising while absentmindedly fingering the single sky-blue pearl of her necklace. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

She was gloriously arrayed now in a heavily-embroidered gown of ocean-blue trimmed with sea-green. Her long soft hair now intricately coifed. I recalled its fragrance, wishing to inhale its scent once again. Her face, even with the bruises, had a radiant beauty. She was not a stunning beauty, but rather the attractive, wholesome type. I found it to be alluring.

I smiled broadly. "You are not a disturbance."

Her smile matched mine in its intensity.

"If you don't mind me asking," she inquired still twirling the single large blue pearl between her thumb and finger of a hand that was missing its smallest digit. "What were you doing?"

"Meditating," I explained. "It helps us become attuned to the Force, to gain insight and direction. It has been an eventful two days and we needed to reflect and gain guidance."

"You looked so peaceful," she commented.

"The Force has two sides, the dark and the light, the evil and the good, they coexist. We serve the light."

"I don't understand."

"The light cannot be perceived without the shadow's existence."

"And the darkness, it is chased away by the light... you?"

I smiled, realising that she had just stated the essence of being a Jedi. "Yes. At least, that is our aspiration."

"I would like to learn more about your Force," she said.

"So do we," I laughed and then, more serious, I explained, "Mastery of the Force is a lifetime's journey. But, I would be glad to answer any questions you may have."

"And, by the way, it is not 'our' Force," I said with an amused laugh again. "The Force surrounds us and binds all things together. It is ours as much as it is yours." As she mused over my words, I now changed the subject. "I have never seen a blue pearl before."

For the necklace she had been fingering had caught my eye. It was elegant in its simplicity. I did not like the gaudy pieces of jewellery favoured by many. If I could wear adornments, I would have favoured an unpretentious style, but it was too dangerous. My lack of them was necessary given my calling which precluded any choice. The pearl had a blue tint not unlike the colour of a sunny day, but its lustre made it appear icy-blue. I recognised its colour. It was not at all like the colour of her eyes which were a deeper shade, but I was very familiar with the colour. It was the same icy-blue as Obi-Wan's lightsabre.

Now that it had been brought to her attention, she looked at it briefly before letting it drop to dangle from its slender chain and clasping her hands quickly behind her back. "It's a Tangill pearl. They're quite costly having to come to the market places from so far away - Household Tangill lies far to the west on the ocean," she informed me as a matter of fact without a hint of boasting. "They are given as betrothal gifts."

I let my face show no emotion even though my mind raced with the significance of her statement. "Congratulations," I said warmly, but feeling as if I had just lost something valuable.

Her face showed her confusion until she understood what I had meant. "No," she said shaking her head making the pearl swing gently as if on waves from the ocean from which it came. "No, this was my mother's given to her by my father. It is mine now since by father gave it to me when she died."

My emotions were now a paradox. "My sympathies," I offered my heartfelt empathy to her at her loss, but for myself I felt as if I had regained a fortune.

"Thank you, but it was long ago," she said wistfully with a far off look in her eyes.

Waiting there, Obi-Wan not wishing to be rude, nonetheless, shuffled his feet after a time to let us know he was still there.

"Anyway," she said smiling once again, her thoughts having returned to the present. "Dinner's ready."

Obi-Wan was pleased. He was now very hungry.

***

Its gray stone walls bedecked with blue and green banners, the great hall reached upward taking up two stories of the building. Pure-white dunt wolf heads were mounted upon them, their bared fangs frozen forever in a ferocious snarl. Off to one side, a life-sized hologram of an artang stood rearing, its hooves flailing the air. Long tables filled the room adorned with vases of white flowers.

The room buzzed with the quiet drone of scores of conversations as most of the table's chairs were already filled. At the sight of ArTesia and us, their occupants would pause briefly in their interchanges to observe our passage. Riding apparel now absent, the members of Household Tangeth where an ocean of blue and green finery now broken only by white, black and various shades of gray and brown. None of the women's gowns, although fashioned in similar variations of ArTesia's appeared to parallel it and I didn't attribute that just to her status as the Herd Stallion's daughter. None of the gown's wearers were her equal either.

ArTesia led us to our places at the front of the room where an enormous fire blazed in an equally-sized hearth. I noted that the fire was not only for warmth, but equally for show. Trees being scarce, I knew no expense was being spared by ArRegenth to entertain us.

Next to a pair of empty chairs, my Padawan and I took our seats. Across from the table were a young boy with sandy-brown hair and large, deep-brown eyes, about the age of six and his two beaming parents. With such a place of honour and the look on the parents' faces, I deduced, for I had seen this many times before, that the boy was to be part of the evening's entertainment. ArTesia took a seat across from the two empty chairs adjacent to the proud parents. With her sisters-in-law on her other side and their husbands facing them beyond the empty chairs, we were now more formally introduced.

ArGen, the very-pregnant, brown-eyed blonde was the absent ArDenik's wife. I had never really paid much attention to jewellery before, but I found myself noting she wore a ring mounted with one of the blue pearls.

ArSeng was the middle son both in age and seating position. He, like ArTesia, was blue-eyed and brown-haired, their looks must have favoured their now departed distaff, unlike the dark ArDenik. ArSeng's wife, ArJoppa, was petite and raven-haired. A bracelet of several smaller blue pearls encircled her wrist.

The youngest son, ArOrham, also dark-eyed and haired like his father, was larger than his brothers, even the tall ArDenik. Broad-shouldered and deep-chested with limbs to match, it was as if ArRegenth in siring sons either had improved with practice or had saved the best for last. With long curls cascading down in an amber-red torrent of tresses that nearly hid the two blue pearls dangling from her ears, ArLosset, his wife, was introduced last.

As the rest of the chairs filled with still later arriving members of the Household, Obi-Wan engaged in a game of hand tag with the young boy. Obi-Wan now secure in his status as a man could now play with those younger than himself. Before reaching manhood most young males refrain from association with children, distancing themselves from them as they established themselves as adults. Obi-Wan was now past this stage and played with the boy openly like a favourite uncle. The boy's eyes sparkled as he giggled in delight since Obi-Wan was letting him win most of the rounds.

A man stood and walking to the front of the great hall, he stopped near the two empty chairs. I recognised the man as the one ArRegenth had used as a messenger earlier at the camp. The man stopped and as he scanned the room its hum of conversations stopped. All rose with chairs scraping the stone-flagged floor and clothing rustling. We rose to our feet, joining them.

"Household Tangeth and honored Jedi guests," he announced in a booming, resonating voice. "ArRegenth, Herd Stallion of Household Tangeth and his heir ArDenik!"

ArRegenth entered holding a staff from which hung the black tail of an artang, followed by his son. Both regally adorned, their ornate raiment was of a rich and luxurious cloth heavily embroidered in the same clan symbols as was ArTesia's gown. ArRegenth's necklace of fangs had been supplemented with additions to display his full collection which covered his chest like a breastplate. Without his father's to be compared with ArDenik's pendulous cluster would have been considered to be difficult to match much less surpass. Both wore head-dresses of a dunt wolf skin which hung to drape across their shoulders and from which they looked out from underneath the animal's glaring head.

Once they were seated, ArDenik respectfully seeing that his sire was seated first, all others resumed their seats. The sound of chairs scraping the hard floor and clothes rustling once again echoed in the hall.

Dishes of many kinds of food, baskets of various breads and flagons of drink were now brought out. The largess was lavish. ArRegenth's feast in honour of us was extravagant.

Obi-Wan after safely sampling forkfuls of roasted charlonis and testing bites of bread, decided the food was to his liking. He now dared to experiment with an unfamiliar dish. That was a mistake. As he tried to prevent the contents of his mouth from coming in contact with his taste buds, I saw the dismay on my apprentice's face. I fervently hoped that Obi-Wan wouldn't repeat what he had done the last time and embarrass us again.

To my relief, Obi-Wan bravely swallowed. Quickly reaching for his flagon to wash the taste from his mouth, I knew he expected it to be more of the bitter ale he had enjoyed last night. He took a deep draught. Mistake number two. He spewed the liquid from his mouth like an erupting geyser. Embarrassed, Obi-Wan quickly cleaned up the mess with his napkin. //Have you finally learned your lesson?// I asked him.

ArTesia said sympathetically, "That's flass, curdled mare's milk. It's an acquired taste."

//How many Ar have died of thirst acquiring the taste?// Obi-Wan mused cynically to me.

The small boy leaned over the table to Obi-Wan and whispered conspiratorially, "That's okay, I don't like flass either." The boy, in trying to help his new friend, now had Obi-Wan thoroughly chastised.

Looking up, I saw that Obi-Wan caught the hard stare of ArPorijhan aimed toward him for his indiscreet adverse appraisal of her culinary skills. Obi-Wan had managed in a short time to cover both ends of the spectrum in relationships, amassing a young friend and an aged enemy.

Obi-Wan limited his diet to a few familiar foods for the remainder of the meal.

After dinner had been eaten, a dessert of fruit tarts was served accompanied by mugs of steaming hot jaffa. The tarts were made with preserves of last year's orchard crop I was told. The apoma, as ArTesia called the fruit, was spicy-sweet and an excellent complement to the bitter jaffa. I do have a sweet tooth and found these to be quite tasty and looking at Obi-Wan I saw that my apprentice thought so also. //Well, at least you won't starve to death on this planet,// I thought to him knowing my Padawan's prodigious appetite.

//There's always our emergency rations,// he thought back. He's the only person I know who actually likes the taste-challenged bars.

Dessert was accompanied by music. Several musicians were now playing lilting, but somehow mournful tunes. Pipes and drums predominated. A chorus of four men harmonised at times with the music and at others a cappella. One of the songs, more robust than the others, included a chorus in their native tongue sung by the entire assemblage of the hall. This was the crowd's favourite by far.

Dessert finished and cleared away, ArRegenth stood and clapped his hands together. "Household Tangeth and Jedi Knights, I give you The Epic of Artell, The Saga of the Ar!"

//I knew this was coming,// Obi-Wan thought to me. //Why do these tribal types always think that everyone is interested in their entire history since their ancestors crawled out of the oceans? I bet it's full of begats, too.//

Obi-Wan regretted his unkind thoughts when it was his little friend who stood up and made his way to the front of the room to the raised dais now vacated by the musicians and singers. The wide-eyed boy looked nervously at an old man who nodded at the boy reassuring him. The boy's parents now beamed so proudly, an aura of light seemed to glow from them.

"Mjoli artang isanti bhui Ar," the boy began. The recitation was not to be in Basic, but in the old language of the Ar. Obi-Wan thought to me that he could not decide whether it was a blessing or a curse that he wouldn't understand the words.

As the boy continued with his story animated by hand gestures, an old man would prompt the boy from time to time. The boy's tutor was passing the Household's oral lore from his generation to the next. I watched and listened politely with interest as if I understood the words and I hummed in my head a particularly bawdy ditty that always amused Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan did the best he could shifting in his seat to alleviate his blood-starved extremities. He liked the little boy and feigned interest also knowing that I would brook no rudeness on his part.

Still, the boy went on in the strange language. It was broken only by the audience joining in with 'Mgoki ithenti ting orathanaltart mgarthal shir tworathar tantass' from time to time. I knew the translation of this phrase by now - May your stallions be swift and strong and your mares have many foals.

Then the boy paused. //At last it is over,// Obi-Wan thought to me. //I'm now quite numb.//

But the boy took a deep breath and continued. "ArTenal inth ArGranis, ArGranis inth ArKregab..."

//There they are, the begats,// I thought to Obi-Wan guessing that the 'inth' translated into begat.

//Can't leave the begats out now can we?// he shot back.

The boy continued for many generations.

On hearing ArRegenth's name Obi-Wan perked up, the end being in sight.

"ArRegenth inth..." The boy stopped. Fear washed across his face as he turned from his audience to his elderly teacher. Ashen-faced, the old man now stared at ArRegenth.

Obi-Wan sat up and cast a look in my direction. I, too, was surprised by the interruption in the recitation, but I did not let it show on my face. What was the boy about to say that caused such alarm?

All eyes in the great hall were now on ArRegenth waiting for him to react. ArRegenth calmly nodded to the ancient teacher indicating that the boy should continue. Permission now granted, the old tutor passed the nod on to the boy.

Repeating himself, the small boy reiterated, "ArRegenth inth... ArMarth."

//So that was it,// Obi-Wan thought to me. //That was the embarrassing part left out. ArMarth is ArRegenth's own son.//

His story now finished, the boy made his way back to his seat and his parents. All at the table congratulated him for a job well done. Obi-Wan winked at him approvingly. The boy beamed at my Padawan's compliment.

The great hall now began to empty as people took their leave, the night's entertainment officially over and the hour late.

Now largely emptied with the exception of ArRegenth, his immediate family and us, the great hall was more informal and father and son removed their head-dresses. The boy's family remained also, apparently of some standing in the Household and wishing to indulge the boy as a reward for his efforts that evening.

Avoiding discussing his odious offspring for the time being, ArRegenth informed us with so much pride that the man was boasting, "My youngest son is a Jedi like yourselves. Tell me, have you news of my son?"

Looking at Obi-Wan, ArRegenth appraised his age and continued, "He would be about Obi-Wan's age, a bit older."

I inquired his name.

ArRegenth shook his head. "He had not gone through the naming ceremony."

I tried to recall any of the brethren with a face that would have resembled a youthful version of ArRegenth. I shook my head and said, "No, I'm sorry."

ArRegenth was disappointed, but still proud to have such a direct link with the Jedi order. "When my daughter was born," he continued, looking at ArTesia with the same pride. "The Jedi came and tested her. They debated among themselves as to her suitability for Jedi training. Apparently, one of the two thought she should be trained, the other deemed otherwise. Disagreeing thus, they agreed that it was best that she remain with us."

"Looking back now, I am happy. For even with many sons," he said as he looked over to his three seated there. "A man needs a daughter. She was to be my only one. Many years later, when my youngest son was born, the Jedi returned. This child they wanted. I, of course, agreed."

I mused at the 'of course'. Although not associated with the search missions for new students, I was familiar with the process. Most parents were agreeable, some refused and a few were difficult, demanding favours or payment in return. This the order never did. For this I was thankful. Inwardly, I shuddered at the thought. I did not want to wonder if I or Obi-Wan had been bought and paid for.

"Perhaps, then you could tell us what his life is like?"

"In all likelihood he has probably finished his training at the Jedi Temple and is almost finished with his apprenticeship like Obi-Wan here," I explained.

"Obi-Wan?" I said simply, inviting my apprentice to continue answering the inquiry.

ArRegenth's family drew closer to better hear Obi-Wan as he started his short biography on the life of a Jedi. Obi-Wan began by describing the city-planet of Coruscant and the Jedi Temple there. All listened intently with fascination at the wonders he depicted.

The scene now set, Obi-Wan told of his training and the lessons designed to prepare him for life as a Jedi Knight. It was a balanced and comprehensive education. The training to develop his mind: sciences, histories, mathematics, languages. The technical training: use and repair of all categories of things mechanical, flight training for all types of craft, space, air, water and land. The training to develop his body: physical conditioning, fighting styles from many worlds, weapons training of all types, but especially in the use of and the major step of the ritual involved in the making of the Jedi's signature weapon - the lightsaber.

Most important of all was the training in the Force. The meditation to become aware of its presence, its vast scope and interconnection with all things living. The inward reflection on his place in the Force, trying to be in harmony with it. Letting it flow over him and in him. Letting himself flow with it. Listening to it as it guided him into a deeper understanding. Reaching out to it to tap into its power. Seeking always balance and accord.

With the apprentice selection process, he ended his description.

His audience was pleased. But none more so than ArRegenth, as I deemed him an optimistic man by nature and I was sure he pictured his youngest son as a fine, handsome Jedi apprentice to Jedi Master somewhere in the galaxy just like Obi-Wan. Perhaps at that moment describing his life to someone else's father. If his eldest son had brought him shame, then it was his youngest that brought redemption.

"I hope that my son has brought honour to your order," ArRegenth said to me.

"I am sure he has," I assured the man.

ArCorday, as the small sandy-haired boy was called, now had his appetite whetted for all thing Jedi. His task for the evening finished, he implored Obi-Wan to perform one for him. "Obi-Wan would you show me a trick?"

With a wide grin, my Padawan reached into his belt and pulled out a coin. The small boy watched with eager anticipation. Holding the coin forth, Obi-Wan turned it over theatrically and then waved his hands back and forth with a flourish. The coin disappeared. Waiting a moment, Obi-Wan then reached over to ArCorday and retrieved the coin from behind the boy's ear. As Obi-Wan with a devilish grin held the coin out for the boy to see, the boy was disappointed at Obi-Wan's slight of hand.

"Aw, I've seen that before. I meant, I want to see something the Jedi can do. Like make something vanish or float in air."

//I can make the boy think something disappeared,// Obi-Wan thought to me, amusing himself. //But I wasn't aware that I could make things vanish.//

Powerful as the Force was, stories circulated that embellished Jedi abilities until they bore no resemblance to the truth.

"The Force is a powerful tool that we both use and listen to. It is not to be trifled with. I'm afraid..." Obi-Wan began as he was about to turn the boy's request down until he saw me give a slight nod of approval.

I was firm and strict in my expectations of children's behaviour, but I had a soft spot for them. A small demonstration for a small boy's sake could do no harm I reasoned. Or for my Padawan's sake, for I knew Obi-Wan had taken a liking to the boy.

"...I can show you only one thing," Obi-Wan continued smoothly.

Summoning the Force, Obi-Wan lifted his left hand out causing the boy's nearly empty water glass to rise into the air. The small boy's face broke out in an ear to ear grin. This was what he had wanted to see. The glass then floated above and across the table as if by some unseen hand. Now raising his right hand, it was the water pitcher that ascended. The pitcher tilted in preparation to empty some of its fluid contents into the glass when it began to waver and then shake unsteadily. To the boy's dismay, the water glass now was bobbing up and down as the pitcher steepened its angle. It looked like Obi-Wan was about to have another liquid disaster.

And spill he did, large drops of water rained down from the ewer's spout completely missing its intended receptacle... and completely missing the table top.

For hovering just centimetres above the table's surface were numerous spheres of water like tiny planets surrounding one large watery sun. Obi-Wan then lifted his small solar system higher off the table spinning the planets in orbit around its sun to complete his representation of the miniature model. Faster and faster they revolved, until they were a blur. Suddenly, they came to a standstill. As did the breath of all at the table, waiting to see what would happen next.

I knew and was impressed with my protege's skill. For what Obi-Wan was doing was indeed difficult. To those not adept in the Force, it would have probably been just as amazing to them had he used solid objects not knowing that the lower an object's density, such as liquids, the harder it was to levitate. It required higher levels of concentration and greater mastery of the Force.

His sun went nova.

The explosion caused Obi-Wan's audience to gasp and pull back with raised hands and turned heads to shield themselves from the impending shower it seemed they were about to get. When it did not happen, they peered to see all the water coalesce into one sphere and deposit itself into the still hovering glass. Heading toward the waiting boy's hands the water glass was delivered without a drop spilled.

"Hunta!" ArCorday exclaimed.

Obi-Wan looked perplexed at the word.

ArTesia furrowed her brow, then stated, "I think it would translate - Wow!"

Obi-Wan smiled, pleased that his small efforts had elicited such a large response from his young friend.

I leaned close to my apprentice and whispered to him, "What? No moons?" For his little solar system had none.

"Master!" was all the exasperated Obi-Wan could manage to whisper back in reply to my comment.

Obi-Wan had a sardonic streak, but bristled when he was its object. For as challenging as his display had been, it would have been harder yet to put still smaller satellites in their own orbits around his watery worlds.

ArRegenth was as impressed as the boy with Obi-Wan's skill with the Force and I believe only his age and stature held him back from making a similar exclamation as the boy. He instead clapped his hands together leading his family in a small round of applause.

"Well done, Obi-Wan," ArRegenth congratulated. "Well done."

"However, the time for frivolities is over and we have more serious matters to discuss," ArRegenth segued. "My eldest son."

But it was ArDenik who related the trouble the Household had with ArMarth as if ArRegenth in saying 'My eldest son' was an invitation for ArDenik to speak rather than a reference to ArMarth.

"ArMarth started his own Household to the west of ours. Household Tangor. My father generously gave him his inheritance early to start the Household. As many as wanted to join him in this endeavour were given his leave and his blessing."

"Over time, ArMarth grew bitter, the work laborious and tiresome in founding a new Household. Then, the arguments began. The exact borders of our two lands were called into question. As if there isn't enough land for everyone!" ArDenik stated this last part with incredible disbelief. I had difficulty picturing how one could delineate borders in a landscape so devoid of landmarks.

ArDenik continued, "He then denied us passage across his lands to the hunting grounds of the western wilds. His excuse? We were trampling his grass!" The preposterous rationalisation of ArMarth would have been humorous given that the one thing Artell had in abundance beyond comprehension was grass, if not for the seriousness of his recent actions. It was now clear to me what ArMarth's problem was.

"Not satisfied with what he was given he began to demand more. It was then that charlonis and other things began to disappear. He was stealing from us."

Knowing the high value they placed on them I asked him, "Artangs?" to clear up what the 'other things' were.

Polite laughter was the response I received.

Obi-Wan's small friend now spoke up. "Artangs can't be stolen!" he stated, as if it was obvious.

But it was Obi-Wan who queried the boy, "Why not?"

"Because they just walk back home!" He demonstrated by marching his fingers across the table top.

The sensible perception of the boy's parents that their welcome was becoming stale said their good nights, justified by the child's bed time, gathered their son up and ushered him out.

Now completely alone with the immediate family, I spoke, "And so now it has come to blood-shed and..." I couldn't bring myself to utter the word.

ArDenik could and did. By the look in his eyes, if there was anyone who hated ArMarth more than the grieving widow of ArNomedrace, it was ArDenik.

ArTesia couldn't bear it any longer. Rising abruptly, she murmured, nearly in tears, that the hour was late. Bolting from the room, she was trailed by the three other women who made no pretence for their departure. ArGen before leaving, as she took the longest to rise because of the fullness of her belly, shot her husband a look that would have frozen over the surface of Tatooine.

Six men sat silent.

"The hour is late. A good night's sleep will put better perspective on the decisions we have to make," ArRegenth sighed.

I looked at each of the four men of the Household in turn saving the face of ArDenik for last because I knew what I would find there. And I found it. By the look of the man, the set of his jaw and the cold, hard stare in his eyes, as far as ArDenik was concerned, a decision had already been made. And if he had been the Herd Stallion of Household Tangeth, I unfortunately knew he would have been riding out to annihilate ArMarth exacting revenge in murder, instead of sitting there digesting dessert.

***

Awaking, or rather finally convincing myself that I wasn't going to get anymore sleep that night, I lifted myself out of bed. Dark outside the mitred panes of the rectangular windows that comprised the outward facing wall, I judged the dawn a few hours away. I had been laying there for some time unsuccessfully trying to fall back asleep.

Stretching wide, I made my second decision of my too early day. My routine of stretching exercises was lengthy and therefore, time-consuming. My large size and the fact I was no longer a young man necessitated my frequent attention to my flexibility to remain limber. Most of the exercises I had learned long ago as a student at the Jedi Temple, a few were new additions taught to me by my own apprentice from his experience at the Temple. The Temple, although it had its many unwavering traditions, was not a static institution, but rather changed and grew in order to take advantage of techniques that improved on the old. I smiled at that thought, improved on the old - myself.

Lowering my body to the floor, I reached out with the Force to the room next door. I sensed its occupant was peacefully asleep. I had half-hoped Obi-Wan was awake as I preferred to torture my tendons with my partner. Obi-Wan's presence forced me to extend myself further than I would with only myself for company and there were some stretches that required an accomplice to fully execute. Yet, I was happy that at least one of us was getting some rest.

I ran my fingers through the long, soft, white hairs of the shaggy charlonis rug beneath me. Thinking that the bare floor would be more suitable for my stretching, I reached a hand out to test its temperature. A warm, steady rain throughout the night had announced the approach of a warm front from the south and I sensed that the atmosphere outside was a more comfortable temperature, but the stone-flagged floor had not yet lost its chilliness. I decided that I would stay put.

Separating my legs as far apart as I could, which was less than my usual nearly 180 degree alignment, I felt the affects of being nearly two days on an artang's back. I hoped that today's schedule would not include any more travelling. Well, I thought as I lowered my torso to the floor, at least I know what part of my body needs concentration.

As I had not fully dressed yet, my upper body was still bare and in performing one of my techniques to loosen my shoulders, my hand felt the relic of the wound to my right shoulder. I paused for a moment to trace its outline.

As a young man, my body had been unblemished and unmarked, but slowly over the years I had gathered the mementoes of my battles one by one. The wounds had left their scars to my collection. Substantial amounts of my body were now defaced, being generously tattooed with criss-crossing scoring. But it was my right shoulder that boasted the worst of all my injuries. It was a nasty, ugly scar, a reminder of damage that had been inflicted not only through flesh, but sinew and bone.

The wearing of the robes of my order was a double-edged sword. They covered the results of wearing them had caused. The Jedi order gave no medals or awards, just the robes and the scars. I was proud to wear them - the robes that is. The scars I wasn't so sure of. I could have had the scars removed, or at least most of them, a few I knew could only be made less evident. I had from time to time wondered at why I hadn't done so. Was it pride in not doing so? Or would it be pride in having them removed? Never coming to a conclusion, I let them be.

A private man, I let few view my bare skin. For the result was inevitably the same, part pity for the man to have borne so many pains and part reverence for a near god-like being to have had survived that many. I had no time or tolerance for either sentiment.

Finishing my solo routine I felt better - more loose and limber. I reached out with the Force to Obi-Wan once again. If he was awake, I thought we could prepare for the day in meditation. But he was still sleeping and my stomach made my next decision for me. Instead of meditating alone, I would get something to eat. I wondered if there was anymore of the dessert left over from last night.

Pulling on my boots and grabbing my lightsaber from where I placed it last night under my pillow and hooking it on my belt last of all, I finished dressing.

The steps down to the first level were a flat and wide rock seemingly peeled from their quarry, nonetheless gave the appearance of floating in air as they were suspended only on the short sides of their rectangular shape. Descending down the stairs, I sensed that most of the Household was sleeping as peacefully as was my Padawan. A few were awake. An old man whose aged body was giving him aches and pains. An entwined couple whose bodies were definitely not giving them aches and pains. Mothers tending to their new-born infants.

My thoughts turned to my parents. Strange, I haven't thought about them in years.

Taken by the Jedi order as a child, a baby really, I had no memories of them. I rarely thought about them anyway. Nothing more really then what they looked like, where they lived, and what they were like. It would have been impossible to track them down even if I knew which planet they lived on.

Others, nonhuman Jedi, whose species was not as wide spread as the prolific humans, but limited to a few planets, maybe one, sometimes tried and succeeded to find their birth parents. The Jedi order discouraged this as it often had disastrous results. Those few that asked were told nothing. Most, like myself, viewed the order as their family. They are probably very old, I imagine, if they are alive.

Making my way into the great hall, the lights now dim, there was only enough light to provide safe passage for my shins as I passed its long tables now empty of their occupants from last night.

The massive hearth with its layers of rough-hewn stone, I now examined more carefully. Its towering trunk served as the support for the cantilevered sections branching out from it. The hearth was open on two sides and now with last night's blaze gone I could see through it to the kitchen.

I walked around the stone monolith into it. Finding the room just as empty, I searched for the light control and brightened the room somewhat. The hearth on this side had cooking chambers for baking and other uses. The room, which looked neat and clean with no traces of what must have been a sizeable enterprise in preparing last night's repast, was dominated by a large table in its centre.

As I did not want to be rude and to be found rummaging though my host's larder for the sought after apoma tarts, I sat down in one of the chairs to wait. With so many mouths to feed, I reasoned that whomever cooked breakfast started before dawn and I wouldn't have long to wait.

Alone there with my thoughts, I again thought of my family, but this time, the one I created. The image of my three daughters crossed my mind. Pride was not a Jedi trait, but I allowed myself to indulge in it. I was as proud of them as ArRegenth was of his brood. She had been proud of them, too.

And I had a son. Even if Obi-Wan was not the product of my loins, nonetheless, the basis of our particular master/apprentice relationship was closer to that of father and son than anything else. I warmly thought of my currently sleeping Padawan. May the Force be with you. The Force. The Force, as powerful as it is, it sometimes wasn't enough to protect my family.

My thoughts turned dark. Too few Jedi die of old age. So many dead. And so young. I recalled the many faces I had seen in my days. The faces that I would not ever see again. The faces of friends that I had eaten with, sparred with, laughed with... and hers. So many, too many, funerals. It was too often the case that in donning the robes of the order you were also putting on your death shroud.

May the Force be with you, indeed, my young Padawan, and may it also be with me. For during my entire life I had listened to the Force, bent my will to it and sought to be one with it, but fully understand it and why it demanded or allowed the good, the kind and the noble to often pay the highest price I thought I never would.

My thoughts of death were broken by a living presence making her way towards the kitchen. I became self-aware that my mood instantly brightened. The lights in the room also brightened as she touched their controls upon entering the room.

***

"Up so early, Qui-Gon?" I asked him.

Smiling, he was obviously pleased that he was. "I could ask you the same thing." He looked me up and down.

Gone was last night's flowing gown. In its stead was a gray knit close-fitting shirt and its lower counterpart of the same grey knit, but cut looser, allowing freedom of movement for my legs, but were snugly gathered at my waist and ankles. Gone too, was the intricate styling of my hair. I had simply tied it the back with a scarf of the Household's colors. I wasn't dressed to impress, but rather to work, but I got the impression he liked what he saw.

"I'm cooking the first meal today," I retorted with a grin. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm here to eat it," he quipped.

I laughed.

"Got any more of those apoma tarts?"

"Like them, huh?," I asked as I started pouring water into a small pot to brew jaffa for our own consumption and other early risers. I placed it on a heating surface of a cooking unit before starting the much larger one for the general population of the Household. "I think I can manage to locate one or two."

"I think I could eat one or two."

I laughed again.

As I waited for the jaffa to brew I began to calculate in my head the quantity of food that would be needed to be made. I subtracted to account for those out tending the cattle or visiting other Households and added to account for two Jedi. "Will Obi-Wan be very hungry?" I asked remembering his unfortunate reaction to the food last night.

"Always is," Qui-Gon replied. "As long as it isn't flass."

"No flass," I promised. "Got it."

"Qui-Gon is still very hungry," he teased me.

"Sorry," I replied. "Just waiting for the jaffa to brew."

As I removed pots and pans from their storage areas and assembled the food to be prepared, the rich aroma of jaffa began to permeate the air. "I think it's done," Qui-Gon decided as he arose. Grabbing the two mugs I had placed on the table, he poured the steaming hot brew into them both. Sitting down again, he placed one of them in front of the seat across from him.

Reaching around him from behind, although I would never confess to it, I made sure I brushed against him and I placed a plate of two tarts in front of him. I then made my way around the end of the table to take the seat indicated by the mug. Qui-Gon waited until I had done so before digging into his breakfast of dessert.

"Good," he said between mouthfuls.

I took a sip from my mug as I studied his face. "More?" I asked when he had finished off his meal.

"No," he said. "That hit the spot. I'm full."

Despite his good mood, I sensed that he had been troubled before I had entered the room. It pleased me that I made him feel better, but I wondered at what had been on his mind.

What made me stand up, walk behind him, undo the tie in his hair, and start combing it with long, steady strokes, I did not know. I didn't care. I knew it just felt good. He closed his eyes. I continued to run the comb through his hair as he sat there for several minutes. Now unrestrained, it framed his head like a mane. I felt my fingers touch his hair and head as I finished gathering it into the tie.

He hadn't asked me why, but I offered an explanation anyway. "You just looked like you needed the touch of friendly hands."

I now began to prepare the morning meal for the Household in earnest.

"How is it decided who does what around here?" Qui-Gon asked because I think he was curious and to extend his excuse for staying near me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not understanding the question.

"I mean," Qui-Gon clarified. "How did you get the job of cooking breakfast this morning? Who decides who does what job? Your father?"

"Yes, and no," I explained as I put pots on to boil and started pans simmering with food. "Dad is the final word. Or ArDenik. But mostly, you end up doing what suits you. I prefer to do my share early and get it over with. Others, like to sleep in. Everybody pitches in and does what needs to be done. Or does what they've been trained to do. It seems to work."

"What seems to work?" a sleepy-eyed young woman inquired as she entered the kitchen and headed toward the brewing pot, grabbing a mug on her way.

"Certainly, not you," I teased my friend, for at the moment I was heavily engaged in preparing breakfast, trying to do several things at once.

The new addition to my one-woman cooking crew I introduced to the Jedi Master as ArLinnote. Her hair, tied with the same scarf, was much longer than mine and of a lighter shade. Dressed like me, but in a darker shade of grey, she did not dawdle over her mug for long before she, too, was busy.

As we continued preparing the morning meal, I could feel the Household come slowly alive as its members awoke. Looking up, I could see the sky lightening through the wall of windows on the opposite side of the room. Their rectangular panes now framed a sky more blue than black. More kitchen help arrived and the room was now bustling with activity, rich aromas and noise. As soon as the finished products were placed on platters, they were removed to the great hall.

***

Entering the great hall, I looked around. Small groups were informally scattered around the tables. Many more children were evident. The sound of many conversations, more boisterous and animated than last night, competed with the clink and clang of dishes and eating utensils. Noticing that those just arriving, like myself, headed toward the front of the room, I followed. Arrayed on the table where I had been seated last night were a stack of clean plates and then beyond that large platters of food. I followed suit and helped myself to a plate and began filling it, being careful with the selection of its contents, if not its quantity.

Holding my plate I looked around the room. No Qui-Gon. A quick scan of the fabric of the Force showed my Master to be in the kitchen. I turned to join him and then stopped. I scanned again for any sign of her in the kitchen. I was safe. I took a few more steps before stopping again. If she did show up, she would probably head for the kitchen and I would be trapped. I turned around. I stood there looking from group to group for a familiar face. As I didn't know many of these people yet, I wasn't having much success.

I was about to give up and eat alone, when I heard someone call my name. Looking in the direction of the hail, I saw the man addressing me, as he was half standing and waving for me to join him. At first, I did not recognise the man, but when I did, it was ArWrenik, the man Qui-Gon and I had rescued from ArMarth. But something was different about the man and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

ArWrenik was eating with a group of five others, four men and one woman. Joining them, I sat down as they stopped their conversation to greet me. Greetings returned, I ate, listened to their conversation and tried to think what was different about the man.

"We can't keep nursing that generator along," the sole woman insisted, looking hard at her five male companions.

"I know, I know," said a barrel-chested man, as he shook his nearly bald head. "But do you want to be the one to tell ArDenik?"

She didn't volunteer because she didn't say anything.

It was ArWrenik who broke the silence. Stroking his bare chin, he offered, "I will."

Bare chin, that's it, he's shaved off his beard. I now looked more closely at the other four men and I discovered one of them, also, was free of facial hair. Curious, I glanced around the room. A few more bare faces. Strange.

***

I sensed another life force making his way slowly through the great hall on his way toward me. The old man kept awake by the afflictions of age, ArCorday's tutor.

ArTesia turned from her cooking to greet the man. But she turned just before the old man entered the room. She couldn't have heard him arriving, not with all the noise. I recalled ArRegenth's conversation last night, how she had been tested by the search Jedi, but not accepted. Perhaps, they had been too cautious. She may have been a fine candidate and turned out to be an admirable Jedi, perhaps not a particularly powerful one, but then there are many ways to serve the Force. Perhaps, but too late now.

"Good morning, ArPindar. Your hip keeping you up again?"

"Yes," he replied easing himself into ArTesia's now vacated chair and nodding a greeting to me. "And my shoulder. This change of weather has them acting up again. I was hoping to work in my garden today, but now..."

"I saw it the other day," she complimented. "It looks good."

"Thanks," he said before changing the subject. He looked at the leftover crumbs in my plate. "What's for breakfast? Apoma tarts?"

Laughing, ArTesia itemised the morning menu for him.

"No flass?" he asked.

"ArPindar, for you, anything," ArTesia said warmly, as she put down the spoon that was in her hand. "I'll get you a mug."

He refused her service. "No, no. No need. I'll get it myself."

As he raised his rail-thin body from the chair, it was with slow and deliberate movement. As he passed by, guided by the Force, I eased the man's pain to a more tolerable level. Anymore would have completely removed it, and the old man would no longer be careful with his already damaged joints and thus, overworking them, further their harm.

"Maybe I will work in my garden today," ArPindar said as his frail frame straightened and he walked with greater ease. "I feel better already."

As subtle as I had tried to be, ArTesia had noticed what I had done. She smiled at my back as I ignored everything, but the mug of jaffa in my hands.

ArPindar, returning from the chilling unit, gave her a kiss on the cheek before returning to his seat. "It must be your smile."

***

"Morning," I said in greeting to all and giving a nod to the Jedi. Sitting down I began to eat, waiting for them to speak, knowing that they had something to say to me.

The volunteer, ArWrenik, cleared his throat. I paused my fork and looked at the man. I knew that he had been elected or volunteered to tell me some bad news. I also knew why the man had to elected or volunteer. It was my temper. I tried to control it, be more calm and composed like my father, but it still plagued me. I saw the trepidation in the man's eyes and winced inside. That wasn't the type of leader I wanted to be. Respected, yes; feared, no. Whatever the man had to say to me, I will remain calm.

"ArDenik," the now clean-shaven man said. "ArDenik, we've been repairing and re-repairing the Household generator for far too long. It's now basically held together with string and spit. We need to purchase replacement parts before it breaks down, again."

Shavit! If it isn't one thing it's another. What's next? The sanitary system backing up? I closed my eyes succeeding with my promise to myself only by recalling my father's face in these situations. Before opening them, I forced the muscles on my face to emulate the visage of my father.

Now opening them, I looked at the six members of the Household crew that tended to the generator and the machines that ran on its energy. The dark-haired, but blue-eyes brothers, ArBoswad and ArKneevik. ArRacham, their energetic, no-nonsense mother. The lanky ArWrenik, with his arm still bandaged. The small, quiet ArInadagell and the loud, barrel-chested, balding ArThom.

"Which parts need replacing?"

With my unruffled and reasoned question, ArWrenik relaxed a bit and dared to reveal the worst of the news. "We think we don't have to replace the generator itself. But, it can only be salvaged with a major overhaul."

"How soon?"

"As soon as possible."

"I'll talk to my father about it."

ArWrenik stared at me hard.

"All right, all right," I assured him. "I'll get the credits out of him, somehow. We are due for a caravan to Household Tangish anyway."

***

I sensed a small life force in the kitchen. There, hidden in that corner, a small mammal.

"ArTesia? ArTesia, there's a..." But before I could finish my sentence the long-haired rodent decided to announce itself and scooted across the floor. ArLinnote let out a stifled scream and jumped out the brinth's way, as it dashed by her and out of the kitchen and into the great hall.

***

The white brinth scurried as fast as its little legs could carry it. As the diners discovered the small intruder, pandemonium ensued. Women screamed, chairs over-turned and plates of food were spilled as the brinth went this way and that, trying to find an escape route. The mayhem increased, as several of the children started chasing the panic-stricken rodent. Not having success in trapping the animal, instead they were making it more frightened. When the brinth ran under our table, the Jedi grabbed the small mammal, stopping its obstacle run of the hall. Holding the animal carefully so as not to harm it, but, also, to avoid the animal's posterior end in case the animal was the piddling kind when excited, Obi-Wan stroked its long, soft coat.

The brinth-chasing children now ran to Obi-Wan. ArCorday, the sand-haired six-year-old that Obi-Wan had befriended last night was among the four children now standing a respectful distance from the Jedi, itching to get closer to the animated ball of fur he was holding.

It seemed that Obi-Wan had deduced it was their pet, rather than a pest. He feigned innocence and asked, "Is he yours?"

All four children chimed at once, "She. He's a she."

Just then I took a deep breath to gain the air I needed to bellow at the children. As my wife, ArGen, and I hadn't any children, yet, I had vowed that when I did, my children would be well-behaved. I am of the opinion that most children were ill-behaved, as a result of their parent's lack of discipline.

Before I could use those lungs full of air, Obi-Wan quickly interjected, "Does she have a name?" He was still petting the brinth trying to calm it, but he was looking at me.

"Her name is Shimma, Obi-Wan," ArCorday informed him.

It worked, I released my breath, calming myself.

But it was Obi-Wan, who was now to be the brunt of someone's ire. For at that moment there was a new arrival to the great hall.

"Get that rodent out of my hall!"

Although the white brinth had terrorised the hall for many minutes and he had only just caught the animal, ArPorijhan had walked in, catching the sight of the apprentice while he was holding the offending animal. He quickly passed it to ArCorday giving the boy's sandy hair a tousle. He couldn't possibly have worse timing.

As the four children made their escape with the now captured brinth safely in their hold, they questioned ArCorday. His standing in their little hierarchy had just been elevated due to his familiarity with the Jedi.

"You know the Jedi Knight?" one of them asked in awe.

"Obi-Wan isn't a Jedi Knight, yet," ArCorday informed him with authority brimming in his little voice. "He's an apprentice, a Padawan learner."

The brinth and the children now gone from her sight, ArPorijhan stormed into the kitchen.

"Obi-Wan?" I inquired as I looked around the room. "Have you seen Master Jinn this morning?"

"No."

"My father would like to have a defence drill tomorrow. The ceremony of the dead for ArNomedrace being today. So, when Master Jinn awakens..."

"He's in the kitchen," Obi-Wan offered.

"I thought you said..." I asked the Jedi before I realised who I was talking to.

"Never mind," I finished half to myself.

***

I felt eyes staring at me, but it was more than one pair and the emotions were not quite hatred, but something else, something different.

In the crowded hall, with all the thoughts and emotions of the many people gathered there, they were making a cacophony of sensations in the Force and it was too intricate, too complicated for me to unravel and single out whom these particular eyes belonged to. So, I turned to see and was greeted with the sight of ArNomedrace's family.

***

"I hope you understand." ArRegenth shifted uncomfortably. He had just not invited us to ArNomedrace's ceremony of the dead.

The deceased man's family, ArRegenth had explained, insisted that we be absent. Holding ArRegenth partially to blame for his death, they had added us to the list. Why couldn't ArNomedrace have been saved as well as the others, they reasoned. Not being able to restrict the Herd Stallion from the rite, they were able to bar us on the veiled justification of family privacy.

"I do," Qui-Gon said softly while giving his head a small nod. "Give the family our sympathies."

We made our way to the courtyard where we intended to use some of our own private time engaging ourselves in lightsabre practice.

Entering the arcade, we saw members of the Household headed in the opposite direction towards the spring where the ceremony was to be held. Huge drums as big around as a Hutt's belly and long curved charlonis horns were being hauled towards it by the musicians from last night.

Exiting the arcade, Qui-Gon neglected to duck, brushing his head with one of the artang tails hanging from it. Striding into the courtyard, we saw a group of five artangs shaved of their manes and painted in blue and green patterns leaving the stable, unlead, and making their way, heads hung low, toward the spring.

//It looks like we are going to miss an interesting funeral,//I noted to my Master.

Having seen many more than I and far more than his fair share, Qui-Gon shook his head. //They're all the same, Padawan.//

My Master and I adjusted the settings on our lightsabres to their lowest power. Sparring strength was just enough to sting, but not harm your opponent. Pushing the sleeves of our tunics up to expose bare flesh, we tested the blades of our own weapons upon our forearms.

While not quite a tradition with the Jedi, it was customary to do so out of respect to your sparring partner to ensure that the light-sword was indeed, non-lethal. We had both heard the story of the Jedi Master engaged in a friendly round of practice, killed by mistake with his own apprentice's full-strength lightsabre. In other versions, it was the apprentice killed or two Knights, the best of friends, both slain. In any case, we thought the story apocryphal and anyone who couldn't tell through the Force or by its feel or at least looking at the weapon whether or not it was at full power shouldn't have been holding one in the first place.

Shaking our arms, for contact with the abated blades was not injurious, they still packed a powerful sting. We bowed to each other and then squared off.

Quickly, I was on the offensive. Determined to make first contact, I struck out at my Master with a series of blows, fast and furious.

When Qui-Gon had first taken me on as his apprentice, I was just a boy and with my rudimentary skills with the sword, teaching me was not taxing on the Jedi Master. At least not physically, I was a challenge in other areas, just as tiring. While never defiant or disobedient, I had my own ideas about how things should be done and was never shy in sharing them with my Master. Assertive and restless, I could drive Qui-Gon to insanity with my arguments.

Over the years as I grew both in size and knowledge, Qui-Gon had to increase his ante when we practised. He put a little more power and speed into his strokes and introduced more difficult manoeuvres. Even though it would still be a few years until I completely filled out my frame, taking the shape of a fully mature man, I was now at full height and Qui-Gon was now holding little back.

Qui-Gon parried, taking the defensive for awhile, waiting for me to provide an opening for him to take advantage. I was feeling particularly in touch with the Force today and it wasn't long before Qui-Gon felt the sting of my blue blade against his left thigh.

Squaring off again, I spun around, bringing my blade down low and cut an upward arc. Qui-Gon blocked downward and continued through with the motion spinning around himself to attack with a downward slash. I jumped back and came down on the blade with my own. The two buzzing blades sparked only momentarily before Qui-Gon reversed direction, bringing his lightsabre down low to cut my feet out from under me.

Using the Force, I leapt up and somersaulted over my opponent landing behind him. Whipping around to my left, I slashed, my weapon level with Qui-Gon's neck. With his back still to me, he ducked into a crouch and my humming blade sliced through the air just centimetres over Qui-Gon's head. Still in a crouch, Qui-Gon feinted to his left before attacking to his right. I tried to parry bringing my blade down to meet Qui-Gon's, but instead of an electrifying contact with its green counterpart, it sparked against the stones of the courtyard. That missing green twin was now smashing into my right side. Knocked over by the full force of the Jedi Master's powerful stroke, I just barely avoided landing on the flagstones

//Obi-Wan.// Qui-Gon wiped his sweat-beaded face with the sleeve of his tunic. //Left. You always do that to your left.//

//I know. I know.// I admitted as I drew deep breaths of the ozone-tainted air and massaged my side.

Qui-Gon arched his eyebrows. //If you know, Padawan, why am I telling you again?//

At the ready once more, Qui-Gon knew I would be more cautious. Attacking first this time, my Master feinted with a downward stroke then lunged with a forward thrust. I side-stepped to the right and tried to use the Force to dislodge Qui-Gon's lightsabre from his hands. My Master held tightly onto its hilt and spun left in the direction of the Force's impact. Turning around on the ball of his left foot, he brought his right leg around in a kick to my legs. As he impacted with the intended target of his opponent, he continued to twist his torso around with his lightsabre held close, once past my body, he swung it back around. I avoided contact by somersaulting backwards. Landing on my feet, I was ready for my mentor who had followed me with a high forward flip. I again aimed for my Master's neck from the left in a feint, twirling the humming icy-blue weapon of light over his head in a feint to the right and finally slammed it into the left side of Qui-Gon's neck by rotating completely around.

//Left is... good.// Qui-Gon rubbed his smarting neck.

Discarding our sweat-soaked tunics, now stripped to the waist, we continued with the exercise in the warm afternoon sun.

With lightsabres held high and back over our right shoulders, we were at the ready once again. Both our blades met in a mid-air power struggle, sparking and crackling against each other. I was giving it my all determined to be the victor. I recalled Master Yoda's often repeated words, "Size matters not."

Calling upon the Force, I held my own against the more massive Jedi Master. Arms now aching with fatigue, I once again tried a Force-push to Qui-Gon's weapon in order to thrust it from his hands. But the large man had a death grip on his hilt and it was to no avail.

As if I had thrown it away myself, my lightsabre was dislodged from my hands and sent flying across the courtyard. Qui-Gon, with his entire strength behind it, brought his emerald sword down in a green blur. I leapt up and into a backwards somersault. Mid-air, I reached out to my fallen weapon and landed in a crouch discovering it hadn't returned to my hand. Qui-Gon was holding it down with the Force as if it was held by a tractor beam.

I had no idea what to do next. Qui-Gon had me and I knew it.

Unexpectedly, Qui-Gon thumbed off his lightsabre and hurriedly thought, //That's enough for today.// Grabbing his tunic, he departed quickly, or more accurately to my eyes, fled.

Alone in the courtyard now, I called to my lightsabre and it floated to my outstretched arm effortlessly. Hooking it to my belt, I strode over to the bench that was holding my tunic. Grabbing it, I towelled the sweat off my face and chest before sitting down with my back against the stable's outer wall. I looked down the wall. Every window had the head of a curious artang sticking out of it. They had been watching my bout with Qui-Gon with interest. //They're probably wondering what I was going to do next.//

//I'm wondering, too. Why had Qui-Gon stopped and not taken his point?// I knew my Master's stamina. //He wasn't winded yet. Why had he fled?//

Almost in answer to my unspoken question, the artangs started whinnying. Someone was coming.

I had been staring past my hands at the ground, sitting with my forearms resting upon my legs, leaning over while catching my breath. At the soundings of the artangs I had raised my head to see ArTesia. I now knew the answer to my question. She was making her way toward me across the courtyard, but she wasn't looking at me. Her head was turned in the direction Qui-Gon had taken.

"Obi-Wan?" she asked now standing before me but a bit back. "ArPorijhan wanted me to ask you... and Qui-Gon... if there was, um, a favourite dish that we could prepare for you for tonight's dinner?"

"I'll bet my lightsabre that she didn't use those words." I chuckled, imagining to myself what remarks she had said about my taste in food.

"Um... no, not exactly." She was uncomfortable that I had seen through her polite phrasing of ArPorijhan's request.

I mused for awhile, thinking of several dishes that my Master relished, all of them I dismissed, for the ingredients were probably not locally available.

"He liked those tarts," I offered.

"I know," she laughed. "He had them for breakfast."

"He is really not that particular," I revealed. "Don't go out of your way for us."

She stood there for a moment before she asked me her next question.

"Obi-Wan?" She looked straight into my eyes. "Is Qui-Gon angry at me for some reason?"

"No, not that I know of." I hadn't expected this question. "Why?"

"Well," she explained. "I could have sworn that he saw me just now, and yet, it was as if he was avoiding me."

I knew the reason, but I hesitated. The scars upon Qui-Gon's body were not kept hidden in secret, but rather for other reasons. Deciding that it would not be a betrayal of Qui-Gon's trust, I told her. "My Master has seen much combat. A lifetime of fighting to protect and defend others. His body bears those marks and he is heavily scarred."

ArTesia dropped her eyes to my naked chest. Knowing she was examining my exposed body, I became uncomfortable, even though I knew she was using its clear and smooth template to imagine the marks on Qui-Gon's.

"But if they were honourably attained?" She walked over to the nearest artang and started to stroke its head. "Why is he ashamed?"

"Not ashamed... no."

"If not shame, then... what?"

"Pity," I explained. "He does not want pity."

"I can't imagine anyone pitying Qui-Gon."

"They do."

She continued to pet the artang's large head.

//She is stalling. She has yet, another question unrelated to the current topic.//

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

"Obi-Wan?" she repeated again. "Has Qui-Gon taken any vows?"

"Vows?" I really hadn't expected this question and didn't know what she meant by it.

"Vows. Has he taken vows of celibacy or is he married?" She strung the words together as fast as she could to get them out it seemed before she could lose the courage to say them.

"Neither," I answered, taken aback.

"Obi-Wan?" She continued paying attention to the artang, now scratching around its stubs of horns. "Would you do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Don't tell him that I asked."

"I can't promise you that." I shook my head. "I keep no secrets from Qui-Gon."

She tuned with her face showing her dismay at her confidence being revealed.

"But, unless he asks or needs to know, I will not offer." It was the best I could concede not imagining he would ask or need to know.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan." She kissed me on the cheek and elated, nearly ran back to the Household.

***

"I'm blind, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon Jinn said calmly.

"Sorry," I apologised.

Sitting cross-legged on floor in my Master's room, I was practising on his mind, trying to make the datapad placed between us seem to disappear. I had accomplished that, and more, by making my test subject sightless.

I adjusted my probing on the vision sites of Qui-Gon's brain and asked, "How's that?"

"Better, everything's back, except the datapad," the Jedi Master answered. "But, black and white is a little dull. Can I have the colour back?"

I apologised again.

"Good," Qui-Gon praised. "Now, bring it back as a... you think of something. Surprise me."

I did as instructed bringing the object back - changed. A half-sized ArTesia now stood between us.

"Interesting choice, Obi-Wan." He raised his eyebrows.

"I thought you'd think so."

"To make the illusion complete, she needs to be animated, she's not breathing," he said ignoring my last comment, concentrating on the lesson.

"There." I fixed the problem even making her blink and turn her head.

"And the colour of her hair is wrong."

I smiled, I knew he would notice I had made it a shade darker.

***

The practice session now over, I once again returned from the baths ready for the evening meal, long after Qui-Gon. Collapsing on my bed, I rubbed my hand across my freshly-shaven face. There was a knock on the door. Not wanting to get up, had it been anyone but my Master, I would have Force-opened the door. I immediately rose and held the door open for him.

"May I come in?" Qui-Gon's familiar deep voice intoned.

I always thought this was a strange request, as Qui-Gon Jinn could by rights just walk in without invitation, his authority unchallenged. For as his Padawan, it was expected that I be ever mindful of Qui-Gon's instructions, not as his servant, but out of respect for the responsibility the Jedi Master shouldered in guiding me, his apprentice, as I found my way in the Force. However, Qui-Gon was a man of respect. His actions and carriage demanded it and he returned it in kind. The closeness of our relationship afforded neither of us much privacy, even in our own thoughts, but the Jedi Master endeavoured to give me as much as possible. Thus, little courtesies, such as knocking and asking for permission to enter my room, were extended as he expected no less in return.

"Of course, Master."

But if Qui-Gon even heard me, he made no response and walked straight into the room looking around inspecting it in a distracted manner. The large Jedi sat on the edge of the bed momentarily before standing and walking out the open glass doors to the terrace. Leaning on the railing overlooking the courtyard, it was apparent to me that my Master wanted to talk. Unlike myself, who often could not keep silent about my thoughts and spoke my mind, Qui-Gon put much thought into his words before he uttered them.

I joined my Master and we watched the activity in the courtyard for a while. I gave my Master the time to gather his thoughts.

//Obi-Wan, why ArTesia? Why did you choose her as your image?//

I knew what I was going to say, but hesitated a moment before letting the words form. //Because you like her.//

More silence.

//Am I that obvious?//

//To me, you are.//

//What did you two talk about this afternoon?//

I blanched, I was going to have to meet the conditions of my promise to ArTesia and tell Qui-Gon what she didn't want revealed. //She wanted to know what we wanted for dinner.// I stalled, while still telling the truth.

//And?// Qui-Gon conjugated.

//She wanted to know why you left the courtyard and avoided her.//

Pushing up the sleeves of his tunic, Qui-Gon turned his forearms over, examining the scars there. He made two fists to contract the muscles there, the taut skin accentuating their scoring. //You told her,// he thought confirmed the fact.

//Yes.// Mimicking my Master's inspection of his arms, I looked at my own, covered with the sand-coloured cloth.

//Obi-Wan, what did you promise not to tell me unless I asked? And I am asking now,// Qui-Gon demanded of me directly now, seemingly afraid that this line of questioning might continue for some time without yielding any more results than the state of the weather that afternoon.

I turned around and leaned backwards against the railing. //She wanted to know your marital status.//

I wondered what Qui-Gon thought of this, but my Master was keeping his own council and was silent. He asked me no more questions. But I had a question of my own. //Master, how did you know?//

//Obi-Wan, the mind is complex and interconnected. You were feeling guilty, whether or not you knew, about keeping anything from me, even if I didn't need to know. During your illusion, your thoughts gave themselves away, flashing across your mind as you created her image. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but read them.//

//You're a good man, my Padawan. I have no fear of the dark side luring you over. Rather, the dark side has much to fear from you.// Qui-Gon smiled as he pushed off the railing and stood straight. //But, next time, pick a different subject when you've got something to hide.// He put his hand on my shoulder. //Now, let's go eat. I'm curious what we wanted for dinner.//

Entering the great hall, we saw that dinner, unlike last night's banquet, was served much as the morning meal was - informal and relaxed. Carrying our plates, I saw the mechanical crew I had breakfasted with that morning and nodded in their direction indicating to Qui-Gon that we should join them. As my Master nodded in assent, we made our way to the group.

"Good evening Master Jinn and Obi-Wan," ArDenik greeted us as we sat down, for he was once again with the five technicians. "How went sabre practice this afternoon?" It was more than a polite inquiry, he was truly interested.

"Much was revealed," Qui-Gon stated enigmatically.

I had the feeling that Qui-Gon purposefully used those words directing them at me personally referring to our recent conversation, but had still another layer, an underlying, hidden meaning I did not yet understand.

"I would have liked to have seen it," ArDenik said.

I noted that ArDenik's face was now clean-shaven, free of its beard.

"Perhaps another time," said Qui-Gon.

"Father would like..." ArDenik started to say, but never finished for he was interrupted by the staggering arrival of a man.

Cursing loudly, he wove his way towards us. The entire hall stopped eating and watched to see the confrontation they knew was going to take place. It was ArHantori, the father of the dead ArNomedrace.

"ArDenik," the man slurred, his eyes glazed over. "I've decided. We're leaving."

ArDenik inhaled to begin to say something, but was once again postponed by the man.

"My family has had enough..." He wavered losing the feeble grasp on his train of thought. "Has had enough of you, your father, and this whole stinking Household!" With this last pronouncement, he made a grand sweep of the hall with his arm causing him to nearly fall over.

This time ArDenik didn't even try to speak, his last attempts being futile.

"So?" ArHantori continued. "Are you going to give us your leave or not?"

"When you are sober, speak to my father about this, you know it is his permission you need, not mine."

"Everybody," he said, stretching the word out and stressing it as he made another unsteady arm sweep of the hall again, grandstanding for crowd. "Knows who the kriffing Herd Stallion is around here! And it isn't ArRegenth." ArHantori tried to stare ArDenik down the best he could in his stuporous state, his glassy eyes unfocused.

I could see the rage building in ArDenik at the public insult. All eyes in the hall were upon him and he knew it.

"Your father couldn't..." the man trailed off in his implication, then laughed at a private joke. "Your father couldn't... ArMarth... but then that's, that's the damn problem isn't it?" The effects of the alcohol were having their final say, the man being close to passing out.

As ArDenik's anger built, his hands balled into fists. I knew that ArHantori's disjointed phrases were an affront again, but of what, I did not know. It was clear that ArDenik knew. I hoped that ArDenik would realise the futility of arguing with a drunk.

My Master made a small wave with his hand to speed things along. ArHantori passed out.

ArWrenik and ArThom hauled the unconscious body of ArHantori away and the hall's diners returned to their meals amid hushed whispers.

"Thank you, Master Jedi."

"He would have done so soon, anyway."

ArDenik smiled easily. "Maybe, next time you could..." ArDenik copied Qui-Gon's hand gesture to indicate what he meant. Just then, as if ArDenik commanded it with his wave, the Household generator failed and the lights went out. "...sooner," ArDenik finished his sentence this time.

He and the remaining members of the mechanical crew instantly rose, dropping forks and pushing back chairs in their rush to leave the hall to get to the generator. I took the time to finish transporting my already food-ladened fork to my mouth and was only a half-step behind them.

***

As members of the Household hastened to bring glowlanterns to illuminate the dim hall, I finished my meal alone.

Leaving the hall, I climbed the stairs to the second story and made my way to the wide terrace cantilevered over the spring's run. The water ran fast and clear. Slim, white wading birds hunted among the tall, reed-like plants bordering its edges. Long shadows of the birds were cast across the water as the sun was low in the sky.

I thought of ArTesia. I searched out for her presence in the living Force and called to her. I patiently waited for her arrival.

//I wonder what Windu is doing now? Probably still trying to sense the tardigrades in his eyelashes. He'll be looking a long time. He didn't need them anyway and Obi-Wan hasn't seemed to mind the extra hitchhikers. Stang, I'm good, got every one. Took me the entire Council meeting, but I got every one. Yoda noticed, but he won't say anything. What were they reprimanding me about? Oh, yes, that. I still say I was right.//

I didn't have to wait long until I was rewarded with the sound of footsteps on the stone steps.

"Qui-Gon?" she asked, seeing me there with a questioning look on her face. "I had the strangest feeling that I would find you here."

"I wanted your company."

"Oh." She joined me by the railing leaning against it also. She had changed her earlier all gray clothing. Loose, ocean-blue pants were tucked into tall riding boots. A simple sea-green sleeveless shirt exposed her arms. I now could see that she had bands of the same Household symbols as were embroidered on her dress, tattooed in blue and green, encircling her arms. Below the tattoos her skin bore the marks of being branded. The welted scars encircled her arms just above the elbows like cuffs. Her hair, no longer tied with the bandanna, instead was bound with ribbons of blue and green dangling with small white feathers. The bandanna was tied to a loop on her belt.

"Ptimaph," I said referring to the white birds remembering the trip to her father's camp continuing in the pastime we had engaged in.

She laughed.

"Ptim-aph?" I stressed the other syllable thinking I had the pronunciation incorrect.

"You had it right the first time, Qui-Gon."

We stood for awhile listening to the sounds of the water rushing beneath us. Looking down over the edge of the terrace, my long hair partially curtained my face as small currents of a breeze lifted their ends.

"Beautiful up here, isn't it?" ArTesia asked. The same tenuous wind fluttered the avian additions to her hair.

I pushed back from the railing. "Yes, it is." But I was no longer looking at the scenery. Pulling her close to my body, she was once again enveloped in my arms. Leaning down to reach her mouth with mine, I kissed her.

When I at last let her go, we both returned to the railing and the sounds of the water and the scenery, since for awhile those things had disappeared and the only things that had existed in the universe had been us.

The evening was now getting dark and the Household remained so. I imagined that Obi-Wan and the Household technicians were not having much luck with the generator. My thoughts turned to ArDenik and ArMarth. The way things had been presented to me it seemed as if both were the first-born sons.

"ArTesia, tell me more about ArMarth. Why did he start his own Household?"

ArTesia said nothing for sometime. I did not push her, I knew the need to gather one's thoughts.

When she finally did, she let out a long sigh before beginning. "It is not something we talk about as everyone here knows the story and it is not pleasant to tell. It must be confusing to you."

"ArMarth is not my father's son. He is my half-brother. On my parent's wedding night, some off-world traders who were invited to the wedding festivities - My mother is from Household Tangish," she explained disjointedly. "Some off-world traders created a diversion, a fight, in the great hall. My father... tried to stop it, but it was a trick, a ruse, to keep him away..." she trailed off having difficulty relating the history.

"One of the men, he... he... my mother... she was waiting for my father when..." she trailed off again. "Anyway, when my father finally left the great hall to join her, he discovered what had happened to her and my mother's attacker was gone. Returning to the great hall all were gone. The Household searched for them, but they had taken off not to be found."

I listened in silence waiting for her to continue.

"Father raised ArMarth as his own. He treated ArMarth as if he was his own son. He never told him the circumstances of his birth, but eventually ArMarth found out. People talk. ArMarth expecting to inherit the Household, now knew that he couldn't since he wasn't my father's first-born son, ArDenik was. His heart grew cold. He felt that he had been deceived and should have been told by my father himself. But, right or wrong, my father couldn't, didn't, have the heart to tell him. Perhaps, my father had so deeply hidden the truth of how ArMarth came to be in this world, he came to believe that ArMarth was actually his son. I don't know."

"And so, ArMarth left and started his own Household," I finished.

"Yes," she agreed. "My father gave him a fifth of all he had. He gave him his inheritance early to start Household Tangol, as ArMarth calls it, but soon ArMarth didn't think this was generous enough and started to demand more. He wanted the additional portion that would have gone to our brother, now yours, the Jedi."

"That's when the trouble began?" I inquired keeping my voice soft.

"Yes, my father refused and my brother, my half-brother, hardened his heart further and you were called."

Continuing to look over the edge of the railing looking at nothing now since night had fallen, I recalled the words of ArRegenth "The colt has the colours of his stallion," and understood their meaning.

As we stood on the terrace, the Household mechanical crew returned from their fruitless labours on the generator for the Household was still encased in darkness. Carrying glowlanterns and one blue lightsabre to illuminate their way, they walked tired and defeated back to the main house. They disappeared into the Household and we were once again alone in our own universe.

"Beautiful up here, isn't it?" she asked again.

I smiled with delight knowing she was hoping to elicit the same response from me as previously. "Yes, it is." Gathering her in my arms once again, I bent down as before, but when our lips touched it was an aeon before I stopped kissing her.

***

Golden sunlight shafted through the windows of my room and a warm breeze lofted the white curtains like the wings of a bird. In no hurry to rise, I sat on the edge of the bed and combed my fingers through my hair, loosed for sleeping.

Obi-Wan was at the door, but I waited until I heard my Padawan knock. From my bed I waved the door open and as an effect, in floated a mug of jaffa, its rich aroma filling the room. Walking behind it was the cause of the gravity-defying mug's movement, carrying his own in one hand. Originally holding both, he had suspended one in order to free a hand to announce his presence on my door.

Obi-Wan was fully dressed and ready for the day.

Pulling on my trousers, I captured the hovering mug, took a sip and headed for the terrace. //It's not tea, but it's good.//Pulling up one of the chairs there, I sat down raising my legs to rest my feet on the railing. Obi-Wan joined me.

I took another sip of the hot, bitter brew and raised my eyebrows in question to my apprentice.

Obi-Wan supplied the answer to my pantomimed question. //Cold breakfast for today. I helped with the jaffa.// He patted the lightsabre at his hip. //The Household generator supplies all their power needs and it can't be fixed. Not without new parts. They're in dire straits.//

//What about firewood?//

//Almost all the remaining firewood was burned in our honour at the banquet. They didn't think they would need anymore, spring having arrived and they have little in the way of emergency supplies,//Obi-wan explained.

//No alternative sources of power?// I asked him.

//No, just some glow-lanterns for light,// he thought back.

//Well, we can't supply the power needs for hundreds of people, not with two lightsabres. ArDenik says they are going to caravan to Tangish village to purchase the needed parts tomorrow.//

//Why not today?// I queried him.

//ArNomedrace's family needs time to pack. ArRegenth has given them their leave. They are going with the caravan and will travel on to Household Tangemay and ask for permission to join it.//

//ArRegenth still wants the defensive drill today?//

//Yes, as soon as we are ready.//

Downing the remains of my mug I dropped my feet. //Well, let's prepare for the day. I think some time in harmony with the Force is in order, first.//

Re-entering the room, we arranged ourselves on the charlonis rug and sat cross-legged facing each other. Meditating together, we drew on the Force, losing ourselves in it, while gaining direction from it. As a team the presence of the Force permeated us, I being stronger with the living Force and my Padawan more attuned to the unifying Force, and sharpened our awareness of it. It was our sanctuary, our asylum and our refuge. Serving its will is our goal and it was the source of our powers. More important to us than all our other is our sense of the Force as Jedi perceive everything in terms of the Force.

***

"ArMarth!" ArCorday yelled riding at full gallop into the courtyard. "He's coming!"

Alighting to the ground, he raced into the Household continuing to shout his alarm. I and the men of the Household gathered blasters on the way and scrambled to the stables. Hurriedly saddling the artangs, we mustered in the courtyard until ArRegenth signalled for us to ride out to meet their foe.

We raced through the orchard in the direction ArCorday had said the enemy was coming. From the edge of the long rows of the grove, ArRegenth, ArDenik and I scanned the horizon of the open plains. Dropping his macrobinoculars and turning to his son and me, he dispatched us to flank the oncoming attackers each leading a third of the troops.

I, on the bay Tamagra, led my company of less than twenty men out and around to the south to meet the eastward-heading column of the enemy. The flat, wide terrain provided nothing of use in offensive or defensive strategy. There was no cover for protection, nothing to use to one's advantage. The battle would be won by whomever out shot the other.

Household Tangeth's foe decided not to divide its strength and turned to face ArDenik's troops. I decided to swing around more to engage them from the rear. It would mean that our mounts would have to travel farther, but I would also be giving ArRegenth the room to fight.

With the enemy almost within blaster range, my mounted troops drew their carbines to join the fray being waged ahead. Firing blue bolts of energy, my men were not quite close enough to aim with any accuracy. Still racing ahead, my men's shots were answered by the equally ineffective return fire of our foe.

Shortly, shots began to hit their intended targets and men started to fall. I took aim, pulled the trigger and was satisfied with the sight of a streak of energy hitting the chest of a buckskin artang.

Whinnying in shock, the artang reared. Its rider easily stayed seated, but by the time the artang returned to all fours, all blaster fire had stopped as he slid from the saddle.

I sat frozen wondering what in the universe was going on.

"You did that on purpose!" the buckskin's rider yelled at me. The man was in a rage covering ground quickly, his hands balled into fists. I got the impression the man intended to yank me off Tamagra and pound me into a pulp.

Qui-Gon on Cantra crossed enemy lines to come to my aid.

For Qui-Gon, with half the men of the Household and blasters set on the lowest stun level, was testing the defences of Household Tangeth against an attack by ArMarth's Household Tangol. Qui-Gon's goal, acting the part of ArMarth, was to reach the Household proper. ArRegenth's men had practised this drill against possible attack before and ArRegenth was keen to see how Qui-Gon would lead the offence.

Situating Cantra's large body between us, Qui-Gon prevented the enraged man's forward motion toward me until ArRegenth or his sons could arrive and diffuse the situation.

Blocked by Qui-Gon, the man continued to yell with fury that I had blasted his artang intentionally and once he got his hands on me, what he was going do me, including the disposal of the remains of my body.

Tamagra shifted uneasily under me until ArDenik and ArRegenth arrived. As they listened, the man shifted his complaints to the Herd Stallion and his heir.

"Is this true, Obi-Wan? You shot Sempan intentionally?" ArDenik asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

ArDenik and ArRegenth looked at each other, bent close to exchange a few whispered words and then turned back to me. "We are assuming that you did so out of ignorance since we take you to be an honourable man," ArDenik informed me. "No one, ever, would do what you just did.,

"It will not happen again," I promised. "My apologies to Sempan," I then added for Qui-Gon telepathically told me to do so.

"Make sure that it doesn't," ArRegenth warned.

"It won't, Obi-Wan is a man of his word," my Master said in my defence. "Excuse my ignorance now, but what about ArMarth? Will he not do the same?"

"No." ArRegenth shook his head and gave Regenth a reassuring pat. "No one is that insane."

***

My victory dinner was cold.

The Household generator still being down, the evening meal consisted of what that night's cooks could serve up with out the aid of cooking power. Continuing with the practice raid, after my grave error in choosing the wrong target, my troops had saved the day and routed Qui-Gon's. The technical crew held a mock celebration in my honour as most of them had been on my side.

ArWrenik stood and raised his flagon of the local brew and announced blatantly so all in the great hall could hear, "To Obi-Wan!"

"To Obi-Wan!" came the chorus of replies. With so many recent troubles, the Household was in the mood for levity and joined in heartily.

Seated across the room with ArTesia and ArRegenth, Qui-Gon raised his mug in salute to his vanquisher. I returned the same.

"May his stallions be swift and strong and his mares have many foals!" the gangly ArWrenik continued.

The Household, fond of audience participation, repeated the toast with much enthusiasm as ArWrenik downed the contents of his tankard before sitting down and equally enthusiastically kissing ArLinnote seated next to him.

***

//Obi-Wan?// Qui-Gon stopped walking. //What was your mistake yesterday?//

My Master had led me up to the terrace overlooking the spring. From here we could hear, but not see the Household making preparations for tomorrow's caravan.

I knew that he was referring to the last round of our bout yesterday, when I had lost my grip on my lightsabre and couldn't retrieve it because of Qui-Gon's use of the Force. I thought carefully, knowing that my mentor was using this as a teaching moment and expected an insightful answer. //When I realised that I couldn't recall my weapon, I knew that I wouldn't last long, being unarmed. My mistake was that I couldn't think of anything...// I trailed off seeing dissatisfaction on Qui-Gon's face.

"Unarmed?" Qui-Gon voiced loudly in disbelief at my words. "Think?"

"Think about this!" Qui-Gon had his lightsabre out and ignited it in a blur that was almost impossibly fast. Then addressing me with such disdain in my voice, it was clear he didn't deem me worthy of the title, "JEDI!"

With a maniacal rage, the Jedi Master attacked with explosive speed. Had I hesitated for any amount of time in producing my own lightsabre, at best, my right arm would have been detached from the rest of my body, for the humming, emerald-green sword of light was radiating a lethal glow. As deadly as the weapon looked, my predator was even more so with his long hair and lithe, mercurial movements. He had the appearance of a large, manned cat clawing his prey.

Furiously hacking away at my defence, Qui-Gon beat me back. For that was what it was, the larger Jedi was not so much cutting at me with his lightsabre, but rather trying to beat, to bludgeon, me with it. The vicious, savage fury of my attacker had me fighting for my very life. Parrying and retreating from my Master's blows, I had no time to think.

The towering warrior relentlessly battered me with wild intensity. Over and over, my blue-shafted lightsabre blocked the oncoming rush of Qui-Gon's green. Our two laser swords met again and again, flickering the air with constellations of sparks. As they met, the humming lightsabres protested in rasping discharges against each other. The pungent odour of ozone saturated the air.

He looked determined not to simply cut me in half, or even quarter me, the enraged Jedi seemed resolved to dice me into as many pieces of Padawan as possible. Often having no room to bring my weapon up to my defence, I had to dodge the onslaught of blows by side-stepping and leaping repeatedly. My tunic soon revealed the singed evidence of how narrowly I was missed in being seared myself.

Once again, Qui-Gon Force-ripped the hilt of my lightsabre from my two-handed grip and sent the weapon flying. Its blue shaft extinguishing itself as it left my hands and soared over the low wall of the terrace, splashing into the water below.

This time when I recalled my lightsabre, it rose from the water dripping silver droplets and levitated into air. Gliding through the air, it spun end over end in its rush to return to its rightful place. As I raised it high over my head, I ignited it extending its electric-blue flame. Sizzling with power, it cast a glow like a torch.

I called to the Force, summoning its power and strength, and refreshed by it, I attacked, pressing Qui-Gon into defence. He attempted to riposte, but I was now the predator seeking blood. I didn't know what had precipitated my Master's murderous rage, but defending myself wasn't enough, I now had to put an end to it or my life was in jeopardy.

Qui-Gon once again tried to Force-push my lightsabre from my hands, but this time his attempt failed. Twice, three times he tried, but the weapon remained firmly in my two-handed grip.

To anyone else, the Jedi Master's face would have revealed nothing, but I caught the momentary confusion on his face. I knew every twitch of my Master's face and had been watching and waiting for that instant of distraction. Immediately, I dropped my left hand out behind me still holding my lightsabre in my right, and called out with the Force to my real lightsabre. Once I felt it firmly in my left hand, the illusionary blade in my raised right arm faded from Qui-Gon's view. I ignited it with a hiss, even as I brought it up to meet my right hand, now empty of the apparition I had projected into Qui-Gon's mind.

Qui-Gon lowered his green lightsabre and thumbed it off. "Enough," he said. His deep voice reflected the rational calm on the features of his face.

Uncertain, I lowered my lightsabre, but did not quench its blue flame.

"Enough," Qui-Gon Jinn repeated this time with authority.

I obediently did as I was told and the blue flame went out.

//Obi-Wan Kenobi, what was your mistake yesterday?//

A flood of comprehension overcame me. I now understood what answer my Master was seeking from me. //My mistake yesterday was thinking that I was unarmed.//

//Good.// Qui-Gon smiled. //I am satisfied that this Jedi apprentice will live to be an old man before finally becoming one with the Force.//

I thought to myself, What brought that on?

He held up the haft of his lightsabre for me to see. //You misplaced your trust in this, when you should have placed it in the Force. The Force is the source of our powers and it is always there for you to draw on.// He put his hand on my shoulder. //Feel, don't think.//

//Trust in the Force and it will fail you not,// Qui-Gon thought to me sounding like Master Yoda.

"It is an elegant weapon," he mused, turning it over in his hands now examining it as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. //But that is all it is.//

I would remember the words of my Master, my mentor, my friend for the rest of my life.

Qui-Gon resumed walking toward the edge of the terrace to gaze at the water below as if his attack on me had been a mere pause. Deep in thought, I took my place at the Jedi Master's side. //Master?//

//Yes, Obi-Wan?//

//Were you actually trying to kill me?//

//Had you fought one whit less than your ability, I would have succeeded.//

I said nothing, but morbid thoughts ran through my head.

"Don't you think I trust in the Force," Qui-Gon Jinn stated, reading the turmoil in my emotions. "My young Padawan?"

***

(Stupid beasts,) said Denik.

"Would you like to pull the repulsor-sled?" said ArDenik.

(Don't insult me,) said Denik.

Two charlonis were being bad. They weren't letting ArInadagell, ArThom or ArWrenik tie them up to the sled. One of them was rearing up in the air and the other one wasn't moving at all. ArThom was yelling bad words at them. It was taking a long time. It was funny watching them get all mad and everything.

The other two charlonis were being good. They were all ready tied up. Their shaggy hair was falling off in big clumps. Soon they would have their summer hair.

ArNomedrace's family was waiting too. The women had stopped crying. ArHantori no longer talked or walked funny. They are leaving our Household. They are going to Household Tangemay. It is far away.

We are going to caravan to Tangish. I am so excited. I like Tangish. It's so much fun! We have to go because the power went out. We have no lights, no hot water and no hot food. I hope my dad buys me some sorsallap. It is so good.

Not too many of us are going. Mom said it was because of that bad man. I'm glad that Obi-Wan is coming. He's a Jedi apprentice. I like him. He does good tricks. I hope I can see his lightsabre.

I'm riding my brown mare Corday. Obi-Wan is riding Tamagra. Tamagra is Corday's mom. I am right next to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is next to ArDenik.

(Just don't bump me into Denik,) said Tamagra.

(I'm trying,) said Corday to her mother.

(When are we going?) Corday asked me.

"Just as soon as they harness the charlonis," I said.

Corday is small. She cannot see over Tamagra. She cannot see the charlonis.

(What is taking so long?) said Corday.

"They're not co-operating," I said.

Obi-Wan looked at me.

I had an idea. "Obi-Wan can help! Can't you Obi-Wan?" I said.

ArDenik looked at Obi-Wan. "Is there anything you can do?" asked ArDenik.

"Wait," said Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan rode Tamagra over to Master Jinn. I followed.

Master Jinn was with ArRegenth, ArGen, and ArTesia. He is a big man. He had his arms crossed.

Obi-Wan bent down to talk to Master Jinn. "Master, they're asking for our help," said Obi-Wan.

"The animals are not being threatening, Obi-Wan, just difficult. No one is in danger of being gored," said Master Jinn.

"Can I..." said Obi-Wan.

Master Jinn shook his head. "Padawan, this is something that these people must solve for themselves. Do not demean them, they are capable," said Master Jinn.

"Yes, Master," said Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan went back to ArDenik. I followed.

ArDenik looked at Obi-Wan. ArDenik looked sad.

"I'll help," said Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan got off Tamagra. He walked over to the bad charlonis.

I was glad. I thought I was going to see another trick.

***

Dismounting Tamagra, I headed toward the recalcitrant bullocks. If I couldn't use the Force to help these people, at least I could put the force of my back into it, I thought to myself.

When ArDenik saw me using the ordinary method of convincing the animals to co-operate, he began to dismount to lend a hand when a young man bolted from the stables astride his artang. The man hurried over to ArHantori's family. He stared hard and long at the younger of the two women with ArKnapina. Their eyes locked. The man and artang slowly circled the pale blonde woman on an artang as black as she was ashen. All activity stopped as everyone was now looking at the new distraction.

The man continued to circle the woman. She kept her eyes locked with his, turning her head as he orbited around her. The pair said nothing, but the man seemed to have made a decision and was now seeking confirmation in her eyes. Satisfied that his decision was verified, he broke his gaze with her and looked at ArHantori. The older man nodded his head. Permission granted on one front, the young man now hurried his mount to ArRegenth.

The young man at last spoke. "Herd Stallion, I ask permission to leave Household Tangeth and join Household Tangemay, also."

ArRegenth was grinning broadly. "I was wondering how long it would take you to ask. Love her that much to leave us?"

"Yes, Herd Stallion."

"It saddens me to lose such a fine young man as yourself, but, go, you have my permission." ArRegenth waved him off.

The young man's face barely had room to contain the smile on his face as he turned and hurried off once again to the waiting young woman.

The two intractable charlonis, as if been given sufficient time to think over their impending burdens, were now more amenable to labour and were soon harnessed to the repulsor-sled.

ArDenik trotted over to his family to say his last minute farewells. I joined him to take my leave from my Master.

He kissed his wife goodbye, but he talked to her full, round belly, "Now you just wait until I get back to make your appearance in this world."

"Will you be all right?" ArDenik now addressed his wife. "Maybe I should stay."

"No, go. I'll be fine. Besides, you already did your part."

"Remember, son, tell ArWrenik to get a good price on salt this time. We were taken last time."

"Yes, father," ArDenik replied, not really concentrating on his sire's admonition.

"And you, sister?" he inquired of ArTesia with concern on his face. "I would prefer if you came with me."

"She'll be fine with me and your brothers, son."

"And Master Qui-Gon," ArTesia added.

I seemed to me that she had said this to ease her brother's worry, but, somehow, it had the effect of both satisfying ArDenik and annoying him at the same time.

Returning to ArRegenth at a more leisurely pace, the young man with ArHantori's family approached the Herd Stallion and dismounted for a more formal release.

ArRegenth faced the small group lined in front of him and spoke loudly while locking eyes with ArHantori. "I, ArRegenth, Herd Stallion of Household Tangeth, send this message. Greetings cousin Tangemay. ArHantori, his family and ArTongrath, have my permission to leave Household Tangeth to seek your permission to join you. They leave of their own free will and of mine. I harbour no ill will towards them for they have been honourable in all their actions. It is with a sad heart that I let them go, but under the circumstances they and I feel it is in the best interest of all that they break with us. If you do not grant them permission to join your Household, they are free to seek out other Households of their own choosing or return here for I would gladly receive them with open arms."

With this ArRegenth broke eye contact with ArHantori and embraced each of them. "Know you my words?"

"Word for word and sentence for sentence," ArHantori replied.

"I hope that on your journey the ground is even, the food is plentiful and the water is sweet," the Herd Stallion wished them.

"Mgoki ithenti ting orathanaltart mgarthal shir tworathar tantass," ArTongrath replied.

As the ArHantori's family remounted their artangs, I addressed Qui-Gon. //Master, I sense trouble ahead.//

I was more sensitive to the unifying Force and often had glimmers of the future, nothing ever concrete, but rather possible futures dependent on actions taken or not taken for the future is never fixed, but forever in flux not having taken place yet. Qui-Gon, rooted more deeply in the living Force, usually reminded me to stay in communication with it, alert to the danger of the present, the here and now. However, this time, my Master did not dismiss my foreboding statement.

//Then stay attentive, my Padawan, let the Force guide your actions.//

//Yes, Master.// I bowed.

"May the Force be with you," he wished me.

***

Holding the remains of Obi-Wan tunic, I was about to knock on the door when it opened.

"Yes, ArTesia?"

"Qui-Gon?" I looked over the tunic and then at Qui-Gon's broad back. "Obi-Wan's clothes, they are, um, we didn't wash what's left of them. They can't be mended."

Still engrossed in whatever he was doing, he kept his back to me. "Throw them away then."

"I was wondering, does he have enough spare clothes? He could borrow some of my brother, ArSeng's clothes, they're about the same size, or if he has to wear these, we could make him some more."

"Please, don't trouble yourself, hopefully, the problems here will be resolved soon and he won't need new clothing. And no, he doesn't have to wear these. If need be, borrowed clothing will be sufficient."

I was of mixed emotions. While hoping that the Jedi would help solve our troubles with my half-brother, ArMarth, I wished that the Jedi's stay with us would be lengthy and Obi-Wan would need plenty of clothing.

I sat on the edge of Qui-Gon's deep bed fingering the charred clothing. "How did they get so... burned?"

Qui-Gon laughed at my question, turning slightly to look at me. "We were fighting."

"Remind me not to get you mad," I said.

"Just be quicker than Obi-Wan," he warned slyly grinning, his blue eyes glinting with meaning.

"I don't think I can," I responded matching his grin.

Qui-Gon started pacing.

I caught sight of something in his hands and laying the tunic aside, rose to get a better view of it, just as Qui-Gon turned his back to me again to make another lap of the room. He stopped and I attempted to look around his massive frame to view the object of my curiosity. Standing on tip-toe, I had to steady myself with the fingers of one hand upon his wide back to peer around him. He switched the object to his other hand. I hunted for it on his other side. He switched hands again. Now realising what he was doing, I tried to dodge around him. He turned around keeping the object from my sight.

"No fair!" I protested. "What is that?"

"What is what?" he asked.

I dodged around him again. He stayed put, but moved the item behind his back clasping it with both hands.

"That," I said pointing to his hands, now behind him.

Producing the object he said innocently, "This?"

"Yes, that."

"You've never seen a datapad before?" he asked.

"No, what is it for?"

"I'm writing notes for my report to the Jedi Council," he stated, now handing me the datapad to inspect.

"What is writing?" I asked.

A curious, confused look came over his face. "Writing is putting down your ideas in symbol form so that they can be read, translated, later."

"Don't you know how to take a message?" I questioned him.

"Not was well as the Ar do, no." He laughed and then explained, "But writing ensures that the message remains for a long time - word for word and sentence for sentence - even after the death of the messenger. We have the writings of Jedi Knights many hundreds, thousands, of years old at the Jedi Temple."

I stared at the written words of Qui-Gon glowing on the datapad as I listened to his spoken ones. "I just looks like... lines. How are these words?"

He grasped my arm carefully avoiding the scorched marks and pointed to the encircling clan symbols tattooed above. "And these just look like lines and circles to me." Looking at the markings on my arm that he brought to my attention, I then looked up at the man holding my arm.

"Can you teach me to write?"

He paused for a moment considering my request.

Qui-Gon pointed to one of the words on the datapad's screen. "See here. That's your name. ArTesia."

***

The building of Household Tangeth had only just disappeared beyond the horizon, but I already wished we were at our destination. ArCorday at my side was a source of continuous conversation about the things that were important only to small boys. At first, I listened with interest asking questions when appropriate, but soon the unending prattling of the young boy grew wearisome and I stopped asking questions of my young friend as this only encouraged him to go into greater detail, it seemed to me, about nothing at all.

I now understood and empathised with my Master. Self-awareness came over me as I fully realised the patience and restraint my mentor had shown me over the years. I now wondered if my Master viewed me in the same light as I was now casting on verbose ArCorday. I knew that my Master tolerated my more loquacious nature, often asking for some peace and quiet, and I vowed to myself to show more self-restraint for the sake of Qui-Gon's ears.

Much to my relief, it was ArDenik that finally interceded on my behalf ordering the boy back to his parents. "ArCorday, I wish to speak to Obi-Wan alone. Go join your parents."

"Yes, ArDenik." The boy reluctantly turned his artang back to ride with his parents further behind in the caravan leaving ArDenik, myself and ArWrenik alone at the head of the procession.

"Obi-Wan, do you ever disagree with Master Jinn?" ArDenik asked.

ArWrenik politely distanced himself from us by raising the macrobinoculars that hung from his neck to his eyes and began scanning the plains.

"At times, yes. But it not my place to dispute my Master's decisions." I wondered where this was leading.

"But if you felt that his decision was wrong. What do you do?" The man was looking for advice.

I remembered back to the times that had happened. As seamless as my logic had appeared to myself, debating with Qui-Gon was pointless once the Jedi Master had made up his mind. "You disagree with your father about ArMarth," I stated for that was the object of the man's conversation.

ArWrenik pointed in the direction he was looking and notified ArDenik.

ArDenik pushed back his broad-brimmed hat and raised his macrobinoculars to his face with one arm and raised his other into the air. Three men armed with throwbows and arrowlances rode up parallel to the Herd Stallion's heir. ArDenik pointed in the direction he was looking and uttered one word, "Jarren." The trio rode off toward their prey.

"Yes, all he wants to do is talk. Make ArMarth come to his senses with meetings and discussions."

"And you?" I knew the answer to my question of the tall, dark man, nevertheless, I wanted to hear ArDenik's exact intentions

"ArMarth is insane. You've seen what he's done and he's not going to stop. I fear what he's going to do next."

A wineskin that was being passed around made its way to ArWrenik, who after drinking, passed it to ArDenik.

"As do I," I concurred.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, ArDenik passed the wineskin to me.

The notes of the pipes came clear and high, trebling across the plains in a prelude, haunting and eerie. As the last notes faded into silence, a soprano called out, to be answered by a bass, deep and rich.

"So, you agree with me? That ArMarth needs to be taken out, now."

"We are not mercenaries." I drank and passed the skin back to ArDenik. "We are here to negotiate, if possible, if not, defend and protect."

A chorus of altos in a refrain was answered by tenors in antiphony. She called out again, a cappella, joined joyfully in round by the bass. Once again the altos and tenors answered each other in the refrain.

"ArMarth will kill again. Can't you see that?"

"Yes, nonetheless, what I do about it will be determined by Master Qui-Gon."

The soprano, sweet and high, summoned the bass once again. There was a long rest. She called out again. There was still no answer. Frantically, she hailed the bass over and over, in crescendo. Ominously, the pipes answered. A chorus of whinnying mares was responded to by the bugling of Denik.

"And if he agrees with my father to continue to waste time in fruitless chatter?" he said as he skimmed his hand over Denik's brush of a mane.

"I will remember that though I think another road would be best taken, our destination is the same. For in serving the Force, we both serve the same master."

Suddenly, a falsetto responded. His voice broke and the caravan burst into laughter. He resumed and the soprano challenged the unnaturally high male voice. He replied, but she ignored him and continued to seek the bass summoning him weaker and weaker, in decrescendo.

"I know nothing of this Force."

"Yet, you know your father and his destination."

The sound of the pipes drifted out and Denik bugled once again. As the chorus of whinnying mares faded away, the refrain of the altos and sopranos repeated.

"Point well taken, Obi-Wan."

Now, the bass returned, calling out to the tenor. There was a rest. He called out again. Softly, she answered. He sang out stronger and she replied in kind. In round the pair rejoiced together. The pipes, one again, came clear and high, drifting away into nothingness.

Sung in the ancient tongue of the Ar, ArWrenik explained the song to me. "It is a love song. A man travels to Tangill to purchase a blue pearl to give to his beloved as a betrothal gift. On the way, his artang dies and he becomes one of the reclaimed. As he had not yet promised her marriage, there was no one to keep the promise for him and she pined away for him. Deciding death was better, she headed into the western wilds to meet her fate with the dunt wolves. Attacked, her artang defends her, killing the dunt wolves, but becoming fatally wounded. Now one of the reclaimed herself, the woman was reunited with her lover."

***

"I better go feed my artangs," ArTesia informed me. I had been tutoring her with the datapad familiarising her with the Basic aurebesh for some time now. It was slow going since she had never seen written words before and concept was alien to her, however, she was an apt pupil and eager to learn.

While I have been a teacher to many Jedi, on many subjects, I had never taught anyone to read and write. All the Jedi, as most people I had encountered, had learned the skill as a very young child. In fact, I could hardly remember back to a time when I couldn't or even the act of learning it myself. When I had considered her request, I thought it would be an interesting challenge and a good excuse for spending more time with her.

"Want to come along?" she invited.

I entered a word on the datapad and handed it to her.

"No?" she teased and twisted her face into an exaggerated frown.

***

If Household Tangor hadn't been bedecked in banners of indigo and pale yellow, I would have thought that we had made one huge loop of the empty prairie and had returned to Household Tangeth for the architecture of the two Households was almost identical.

Our colourful caravan was met in the courtyard by a small group of Tangor Household members as our arrival had been heralded by a young boy who had been tending herd in the outlying pastures of this Household. For we were to spend the night as it had take nearly a day's travel to arrive here and we were still far from our destination.

"Cousin Tangeth!" a red-haired stocky man with an equally red bushy beard greeted ArDenik. "Any messages from your father?"

ArDenik slid from the back of Denik and embraced the man warmly. I stayed atop Tamagra intending to stay there until introduced to avoid being hugged myself.

"No, not today. But he does send his greetings."

"Good enough, good enough. And good to see you. Why so soon to Tangish?"

"It's the generator again." ArDenik shook his head, grimacing.

"I see you have a guest."

"Yes, so sorry. ArFavon this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi apprentice. Obi-Wan this is ArFavon, Herd Stallion of Household Tangor."

We nodded in greeting.

Denik snorted at being ignored.

"Yes, Denik, I'll ask him."

"No need. She's here. Come on."

The entire caravan now dismounted, including myself, now being safely introduced.

"I see you've brought dinner, too." ArFavon indicated toward the bodies of the large, flightless jarrens draped across the backs of artangs.

"Couldn't come empty-handed. I see you've been doing some hunting yourself."

The red-haired man touched the string of fangs encircling his neck. "Two new additions."

"I bet they come with two good stories." ArDenik winked at him.

"True. And true tales they are, too." ArFavon nodded earnestly.

"And I'm a blue charlonis."

"I thought you looked different today." ArFavon kept a straight face until his friend broke out in a laugh and then allowed himself a wide grin at his own humour.

Artangs and charlonis, unburdened, fed and watered, it was some time before we headed across the courtyard towards the Household.

ArFavon was a friendly man about ArDenik's age. Unmistakably close with ArDenik, he bantered with him back and forth eager for news, while still including myself and ArWrenik in the conversation. "So, how's ArGen? Still..." He made a circle of his arms around his stomach.

"Still." ArDenik nodded.

"Well, soon you'll have a whole herd of them just like me."

"When are you going to make an honest woman of the girl of yours?" The red-haired man addressed ArWrenik.

"Soon, another year or two."

"How about you, Obi-Wan? Any little ones yet?"

"No."

"Well, you're young. No need to rush. But trust me, they're great." Three red-haired children ran out of the arcade toward ArFavon. "Speaking of which..." The trio of youngsters ran past him without stopping only to be joined by ArCorday and five other children of the caravan to run back into the Household.

Nearing the arcade, I noticed it held its own collection of artang tails just as Household Tangeth's did. I will have to ask about that.

"Well, you'll get to meet them later. And speaking of children, you're not here on a search are you?" he asked me.

"You mean a search for new Jedi? No."

"Didn't think so. ArMarth?"

"Yes."

"Speaking of which," ArFavon segued, now addressing ArDenik once again. "I heard the bad news. How's your sister?"

ArDenik's mood turned sombre. "Fine."

Noticing his friend's change of mood, he tried to deflect it by changing the direction of the conversation. "I heard you're quite good with that laser sword of yours."

"Just lots of practice," I responded.

***

The stable's water pumps being run by the power of the Household's generator were inoperative, therefore, I had let Tesia, Cantra, and the other artangs I was tending while their riders were on caravan, roam free to drink their fill from the spring's run.

"I won't have to tote as much water, then," I explained to Qui-Gon.

"I'll help," he offered.

"I was counting on it." I winked at him.

Carrying two buckets each, we walked toward the spring itself, it was more accessible being free of vegetation. Water rushed to the surface of the roughly circular spring, released from its captive pressure by the layers of rock below. Crystal-clear and cold the water flowed sparkling on its turbulent surface in the warm afternoon sun. Swimming in the eddies flashing their white scales were mgin, inscha, seraniabet and the occasional tognijonoss with his large shell.

As I dipped one of my buckets into the spring's silvery waters, I watched Qui-Gon do the same. "Isn't it easier for you to fill them the other way?"

"What other way?" He looked up at me with those innocent blue eyes.

Here we go again, I thought to myself. "You know, like Obi-Wan did at the banquet the other night."

"Can't," he said with a serious face. "Obi-Wan's speciality. He won't let me in on his secret."

I pretended I believed him and projected disappointment on my face.

"I'll try though," he said his face still earnest. "If it will make you happy."

I watched as he closed his eyes and concentrated. I waited. He was putting on quite the show. His brow furrowed in effort. Still nothing. His whole body strained. Not a drop moved.

Relaxing, he bent down to pick up the buckets again. "Sorry, I tried."

"That's okay." I turned with full buckets, thinking now that he had been telling the truth.

"Look out!" Qui-Gon warned. "Behind you!"

I turned around to see the cause of the Jedi Master's warning - just in time to be washed over with a wave of water soaking me from head to toe. Sputtering, it took me a moment to recover from the surprise shower. "Why, you..."

Dropping one of the buckets, I grabbed the other in both hands intending to repay him the favour. But he had already hastily removed his boots and was diving into the water before I had the chance.

I soggily plopped down on the bank to remove my own boots. Having difficulty since I was drenched and the boots kept slipping out of my hands, I started muttering in Ar.

Free of my boots, I dove in after him. He allowed himself to be caught. Pulling me close, he treaded water for the both of us. The water was chilly and his body was warm and inviting.

"Now, what was that you were saying?" he asked me in that deep voice of his with the strange accent.

"I was saying, that you're as bad as Obi-Wan."

"Worse." He kissed me while water dripped from his forehead to land on my face. "Who do you think taught him?" He kissed me again.

***

It felt good to have a hot bath again, but I cut it short as Household Tangor was much more populous than Household Tangish and others were waiting their turn. Leaning over the basin, I began to shave. Thus engaged, I wondered at the rapidly reducing numbers of beards of the Household's men. I studied the reflection of my face and imagined what it would look like with a beard. Once I had passed the trials and was elevated to Jedi Knight, I would be free to grow a beard like my Master. I mused at the thought. A neat one would look good, not a big bushy one.

I rubbed a hand over my brush of hair. I would also be able to wear my hair as I wished. I pictured myself with the long, flowing mane of my Master. No, not for me. Maybe, I'll shave it all off like Master Mace Windu. I shook my head at that thought. My braid slipped forward from behind my back to drape across my chest. I ran the fingers of my right hand down its length. Those hairs had never been cut and the thin braid's length testified to the years spent training, since birth almost, towards my goal.

I closed my eyes and pictured the moment. Successful in the trials, my Master would cut my braid off and hand it to me, releasing me from his apprenticeship. Then, as was tradition, I would bow and hand the braid back to my Master as a gift, a symbol of gratitude for his guidance and teaching over the years.

Opening my eyes, I continued once again to remove the stubble from my face being careful with the cleft in my chin. Wouldn't look good wielding a lightsabre with a face cut by a simple razor, I thought as I turned the sharp implement over in my hand. I liked its simplicity. Most other Padawans used an electroshaver. I even knew of one who 'Force-shaved' as he called it. Recalling his words - "If I'm forced to shave, I'm going to Force-shave." I chuckled to myself. I thought it was a pretty good pun.

Soon, I assured myself, soon, a few more years and I'll be ready for the trials.

But I was in no hurry, I liked my life as it was. Most of the time, anyway. There were days when I wished I could be on my own and make my own decisions.

Nevertheless, Qui-Gon was a powerful Jedi, strong in the Force and I was learning much from him. And I liked him. He was a good and kind man. Considerate. Patient. Very patient. Didn't talk much, but I'm used to that by now. I wondered when I took on a Padawan if I would be as good a Master. What will that apprentice think of me?

A small life was headed towards me. Opening the door, he burst in.

"Don't you ever knock?"

"I forgot to clean my teeth. What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I spared the young boy a more sarcastic remark that had come to mind. "I'm shaving."

"Oh..." ArCorday stood there entranced.

"Oh, what?" I playfully dabbed shaving foam on the boy's nose. "Haven't you ever seen anyone shave before?"

"It's just that I thought you couldn't. Grow a beard, I mean."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Well, you didn't have one when you came." He looked at his reflection and wrinkled his nose.

"So?"

"Well, everyone grows one for the winter."

That explains it, I realised. They must let them grow over the winter and shaved them off for the summer.

Having lived most of my life on climate-controlled Coruscant, I had never experienced an entire winter season. The only places on Coruscant that it snowed were its polar ice-caps. I had been there. Went turboskiing with some friends. I had enjoyed that. Off-world, I had experienced some severe cold. Been to the ice-planet Hoth. Hadn't liked that. I definitely liked a hot climate. And dry heat at that.

"Everyone? The women too?" I asked him.

ArCorday laughed. "No, just the men." Being six, he did not know that he didn't have to explain that.

"Gets pretty cold here in the winter, huh?"

"Freeezzzing." ArCorday hugged his shoulders to illustrate his point.

"I'm glad I'm here now, then."

"I'm glad you're here, too."

I bent down to give the boy a hug. "ArCorday, you could melt the heart of a Sith Lord."

***

Sensing the presence of the two artangs behind him, Qui-Gon let a few centimetres come between his lips and mine.

"We're being watched?" he asked.

"We're being watched," I confirmed.

(Are they done yet?) Tesia asked Cantra.

(Don't know. They've got their clothes on. Could be finished. Or just starting. Can't tell,) Cantra replied to her stable mate.

(ArTesia...)

"Swimming! We're just swimming!"

(Doesn't look like you're swimming to me,) Cantra snorted. (Anyway, if you're done swimming, we're hungry.)

"You're always hungry."

(You know, I am . . .) Cantra continued.

"Yes, I know, 'I'm eating for two'," I finished the mare's sentence for her having heard it many times before.

"You?" Qui-Gon shammed shock.

"No, not me, her." I pointed toward the chestnut mare.

"Go to the pasture and eat some grass. And stay out of the tallgrain fields. I'll be out soon to feed you."

(Soon?)

"Go away!"

"Me?" Qui-Gon asked in mock rejection.

"No, not you, them." Frustrated, I started muttering in Ar again as the mares walked away. "And before you ask, I said, you're as bad as my artangs."

"Seems like you have a pretty low opinion of me today. Perhaps, this will put a better perspective on things." With that, he held me more tightly as he caused the two of us to rise out of the water until just the soles of our feet touched its surface.

"Beautiful up here, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," I responded quickly before my lips lingered upon his.

***

Obi-Wan had in confidence inquired if dinner would include a recitation of the genealogy of this Household. I think he was relieved at my answer. I'm sure our history would be quite boring if you did not understand our language. He said something about the list of begats being be quite lengthy if ArFavon's ancestors were as prolific as the man. Prolific the man was, I agreed. Eight! Who in their right mind would want eight? I hope ArLinnote doesn't want that many. Six or seven, but not eight. I told the Jedi that it was extremely lengthy, as this Household was much more populous, that being the reason for the need to share accommodations.

After dinner, leaning over the railing of the wide terrace of our room Obi-Wan, ArDenik and I watched the sun set in the eastern sky. A flock of migratory tobbons, chittering noisily, winged in to roost amongst the overhangs and various niches of this Household.

"Do NOT touch that!" Obi-Wan warned.

ArDenik looked at me and I looked at ArDenik.

"I said, DO NOT TOUCH THAT." With those words, a silver cylinder came flying through the air to meet with Obi-Wan's open palm. Hooking the lightsabre to his belt, he strode back into the room.

ArDenik and I turned around to watch the proceedings in the room.

"But, I just wanted to look at it," ArCorday explained.

ArCorday had talked his parents into allowing him to bunk with us, or more accurately, bunk with Obi-Wan.

"It's too dangerous for you to play with." Obi-Wan stared down at the boy with his face as deadly serious as his voice.

"But, I just wanted to look at it," ArCorday repeated.

"You could have hurt yourself with it."

"I wasn't going to turn it on. Honest."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. The boy was arguing with him, convinced of his own brand of logic, and was therefore not listening to him. "ArCorday, look at me." Obi-Wan seemed to be going to try a different approach and knelt down to the boy's level. "Have you ever seen me disobey Qui-Gon?" The young boy shook his head in the negative.

"And there's a reason for that. He's older and wiser than I am. Do you understand?" There was another shake of the sandy-haired head - one of agreement.

"Well, just as I listen to Master Qui-Gon. I want you to listen to me. Promise me." Put that way, it seemed as if the apprentice was taking on an apprentice of his own.

ArCorday looked elated. "Yes, Obi-Wan. I promise."

"Good." Obi-Wan gave ArCorday's head a shake of his own, tousling his hair. Obi-Wan paused for a moment looking lost in thought. "Now, get in bed. We've got a big day tomorrow."

ArCorday jumped into bed as if spring-loaded, eager to obey.

Obi-Wan rejoined us on the terrace.

I knew ArDenik's opinions on child rearing and I knew that ArDenik would be impressed with Obi-Wan's handling of the situation. "That was fast. You're very good with him," ArDenik praised. "Are you sure you don't have any children?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan said and then grinned mischievously. "Almost positive."

"Almost?" I echoed, mirroring his grin.

"Anyway, I thought you were going to lose your temper with him for a moment," ArDenik commented.

"It's was all my fault. I was angry with myself." Obi-Wan shut his eyes for an instant. "I shouldn't have left him in the room alone with it."

"What was the danger?" I inquired. "I thought only you Jedi could use them."

"No," Obi-Wan contradicted. He unhooked his lightsabre and handed it to me. "Anyone can use one. It doesn't run on the Force. In fact, I left it in the room because I was recharging the battery." He indicated which button to push and I nervously depressed it. A bright-blue blade of light extended, buzzing with energy. I'm holding a lightsabre!

"Then why...?" I started to ask.

"To make one," Obi-Wan explained. "Requires a considerable command of the Force. Constructing your own lightsabre is a crucial step in a Jedi's training."

"You made this?" I manoeuvred the blade in the air just a little bit.

"Yeah, took me a month."

"How do you turn this thing off?" I asked.

"Same button. Double-click it."

I passed the de-energised weapon back to him.

ArDenik pushed off the railing and put his hand on my shoulder.

Oh, no.

"Come on my friend, let's join that sabacc game I know they've got going on by now, and relieve them of a few credits."

More like they'll relieve me of my credits.

"You in, Obi-Wan?" ArDenik invited.

"I could use some spending money. Which rules? Bespin standard?"

ArDenik raised his eyebrows. "I see they haven't kept you locked up in that Temple of yours," ArDenik replied. "Mostly, nothing fancy, we like to keep things straightforward and simple. No, wait, ArFavon likes that game he learned from Household Tangill." ArDenik looked quizzically at me. "What does he call it?"

"Spit in the Ocean."

"Yeah, that's it. Weird name, huh?"

"They're all a bit strange at Household Tangill. All that salt water, gets to their brains," I agreed tapping my temple.

"Anyway," ArDenik said conspiratorially to Obi-Wan as he draped his arm around the Jedi,s shoulder. "Any help you could supply would be appreciated."

"Sorry, I'll be too busy helping myself."

ArDenik's face dropped for I knew he hadn't been serious in his request and was aghast at the thought of what the Jedi was planning to do.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "No, I wasn't. It is against the Jedi Code."

ArDenik was visibly relieved. "Well, then, let's go and lighten their
pockets."

ArDenik and I moved quietly past ArCorday who seemed to be asleep. Obi-Wan however bent down to talk to the boy. "We'll be back in a little while," he informed ArCorday.

"Where are you going?" a sleepy little voice responded.

"We're just going to the great hall to play some sabacc."

"Can I come?" He partially sat up.

"No. You need to go to sleep." Obi-Wan tucked him in as the boy laid back down. "If you need me all you need to do is call my name. Not loudly, now, just softly, you don't want to wake anyone, and I'll come."

"You'll be able to hear me?"

"Promise."

***

Three days and three more Households later, our caravan arrived at its destination of the village Tangish. Stretching my sore legs, I was much relieved to be off Tamagra at least for one day. More than once on the journey, I had wished for a landspeeder, a speederbike or anything mechanical.

I always marvelled what different peoples would or would not incorporate into their cultures from the more technologically advanced core worlds of the galaxy. I calculated the time a few landspeeders could have made the same journey and came up with an answer that would have had them there, back, generator parts installed, generator up and running. And me? I'd be eating a hot dinner by now.

Tangish village was just that, a village. The entire population of Artell did not exceed much over a half million inhabitants. Although part of the Republic, the scant population did not meet the minimum for Senate representation. With no cities, nor spaceports, this village was at the planet's maximum for population density.

As the village boasted little in the way of accommodations, I was told it was the norm for caravaning Households to camp on the grasslands on the outskirts of the village. Arriving late in the day, our caravan set up camp intending to shop for the generator parts and other provisions the next day.

I wanted to work off some energy and get the kinks out of my legs so I decided to go for a run. I didn't get very far before I was joined by several artangs. The caravaning Households had let the artangs loose on the plains and they had assembled in several groups it seemed to me like people at social gathering. It also appeared to me that the artangs where either extremely curious as to what I was doing or alarmed that I was doing it. I soon had three dozen or so of them trotting around me. This is ridiculous.

I stopped and they stopped. I tried to shoo them away. They just looked at me. I gave up and headed, walking, towards the village. I'll get ArCorday some of that sorsallap he was talking about.

Strolling the village's main street, the small settlement brought to my mind Cornet, the capital city of Corellia. Other than the buying and selling of goods, the two I compared couldn't have less in common. I recalled the busy, congested streets of Cornet alive with its lifeblood of commerce. Goods and services flowed in and out of the city from all sectors of the galaxy - legally and well, Corellia is well known for its grey areas of the law and keeps the Corellian Jedi very busy. Cornet was an assault on the senses and offered pleasures to satisfy all of them, some simultaneously.

After finding a shop that sold the sticky candy, I felt like getting something to eat and drink at a cantina I had passed and just sit and people watch. But ever since I entered the village I was the object of examination, for I was the only off-worlder to be seen as well as the only Jedi. The not too whispered asides of 'Jedi' and the pointing of fingers was beginning to get to me. I tried to ignore it and called on the Force to calm me as I entered The Artang's Tail as it was called and which was more of an outdoor tapcaf than a drinking establishment per se.

It looked like the place was popular, but then with so many camped on the outskirts and this was only one of two that I had seen, there wasn't much choice. Most of the caravans cooked and ate at their campsite I had been told. I knew the nanosecond I stepped in it was a mistake. I sat down anyway.

The food was good, but it sat in my stomach like permacrete. I had hoped that the other diners would soon get tired of surreptitiously looking over their shoulders at me. I had hoped in vain. People would leave only to return with friends not interested in the fare the place offered, but the decor which was namely - me.

I downed the remains of my ale and walked back to the camp.

Now dark, it matched my mood. Whether or not the Force was roiling because of the state of my emotions, or because it was something else and the disturbed Force was upsetting me I did not know. I did not hurry back to the camp, but rather took my time to attune myself with the Force and try to calm myself. Shortly, I was rewarded with discovering that I thought it was a splendid sight seeing the multitude of campfires flickering in the night across the plains. I knew that I had reconciled myself to the Force, yet something was still wrong.

I knew that Household Tangeth had been invited over to Household Tangemay's camp as the emigrants of ArHantori's family were joining it, both Households deeming it to be coincidence that they were both here at the same time. Coincidence is not something the Jedi believe in, rather we know it is the workings of the Force.

I, however, did believe that the same formula as before was followed. After dinner, flagons of ale would be generously passed around, music would be played, songs would be sung with choruses joined in by all and finally stories would be told. I was not disappointed.

Finding Tangemay's camp in the dark was not difficult as ArCorday's presence in the Force was well known to me by now.

"Obi-Wan!" And his voice.

As I joined the group, I handed the sticky, sweet sorsallap to ArCorday whose large brown eyes became even larger with delight at the treat. Sitting down on one of the blankets that were arranged around the campfire, it was apparent I arrived at the song singing segment. Household Tangemay seemed to have a bevy of young women whose eyes had been glued to a man about my age strumming a stringed instrument. At my addition to the group, the covey of beauties unstuck their eyes from the dark-haired musician and reset them on me. He finished his song without an audience.

I decided that there was no fighting it tonight. I motioned for the player to lend his instrument to me. I knew he wouldn't want to, not anymore than a hawk-bat would want to give up a granite slug, but I knew he couldn't deny me, not with everyone watching.

Plucking a few strings to get the feel of this local variation of an almost universal instrument, I saw the man smouldering over the fact that I was competition for attention. As I disregarded his laser-like stares, I didn't ignore the reason for them which was why I selected the song I did. Modesty aside, I do have a good voice and the affect the mournful love ballad had on the females of Tangemay was satisfactorily pleasing to me.

At the conclusion of the song, the man, hiding his hand at his side from the sight of the women, but where I could see it, made a hand signal to me. I was unfamiliar with it and just seeing it alone out of context I wouldn't have known what it meant. Putting two and two together, I concluded he wanted to get to know me better in a decidedly unfriendly manner.

ArWrenik saw the man's gesture and looked to see my reaction. I pretended I hadn't seen anything and continued with another song.

My next selection, I chose because it had a simple chorus they could join in on and because the emerald green of Household Tangemay brought the robes of the Corellian Jedi to mind. The Corellian Jedi's tune was a humorous ditty in which the contrary brethren explain the reasons why they rarely strayed from their system.

At the finish of this tune, the man again made his signal this time with more vigour. I stood up and walked the instrument to the man with my back to the women. Straightening my tunic, I made a gesture of my own which I think even a protocol droid would agree needs no translation in any language. ArWrenik, who had a mouthful of ale at the time, I thought he was going to choke to death.

I also fully expected to be asked to tell a story seeing the excitement my presence caused among the Household Tangemay's members. I had already selected one by the time I was asked. If these people were interested in clan history and genealogies, I decided, by the Force itself, the Jedi had a heritage that could be traced back not in mere centuries, but in millennia, and I had a story to tell.

The Sith War.

"You mean there are bad Jedi?" ArCorday said in amazement. His parents had kept him seated at their side, but as usual, he was drinking in every word I had to say about the war fought long ago between the Dark Lords of the Sith and the Jedi. The dark-haired musician persisted in trying to stare me down.

"Were bad Jedi. Not anymore," I assured my young admirer.

"I'm glad." His mouth was a gooey red mess.

"So am I, ArCorday, so am I."

"And this happened two thousand years ago?"

"Yes." I rose to get myself something to drink and was joined by ArWrenik. "What is his problem?" I asked nodding in the direction of my antagonist.

"Him? Ignore him. I know you're not." ArWrenik poured himself some ale and placed the pitcher down.

"I'm not what?" I took a sip from my flagon while looking up at him.

"A little boy or a coward."

It was my turn to choke. "What?" I sputtered.

"You're not a man until you make your first kill." ArWrenik flicked his finger across his necklace making the fangs clink together. "One-fang-man there thinks you're easy prey."

I turned around to tally the number of his of dental decorations. It did not take me long to count them. One.

One-Fang rose and stretched. Throwing his shoulders back and pulling himself up to his full height, which was not much more than mine, I knew what was coming. I turned around to face ArWrenik.

On his way to the ale pitcher, One-Fang accidentally slammed his shoulder into me, sloshing my drink. Even this I could have let pass, for One-Fang apologised so sincerely, but he just had to tug on my braid as he did so. I handed my mug to a smiling ArWrenik and came around with my fist to connect with the side of One-Fang's face.

It was definitely an un-Jedi-like thing to do, but it felt good. I haven't been in a fist-fight since my last one with Bruck at the temple. Qui-Gon, I knew, wouldn't have approved and would have stopped me, but he wasn't here.

When we were finished, I believe I had unconvinced him of his earlier opinion of me and pounded several new ones into him. It had been a fair fight for the Force becomes muddied when I am angry and I can no longer sense things before they happen. I ended up with a black eye, a busted lip, a bloody, but thankfully unbroken, nose, some very sore ribs... and two of his teeth.

***

I woke up the next morning feeling as if I had slept on the horns of a Devaronian, for ArCorday had kept as close to me in his sleep as he did while awake. Several times during the night I had to move the young boy over for a foot or elbow had wedged themselves under my back.

In silence, I had managed to complete most of my stretching exercises before the dark brown eyes of my small tent mate opened wide.

"What are you doing?" the boy said in rapid fire. "Can I do it too?"

"Here, you can help," I offered as I supported my body between my toes and hands. "Climb up."

Seated on my back the words continued in a stream. "What do I have to do? What are you going to do now? Something do to with the Force?"

"Push-ups," I replied as I lowered my chest to the ground.

***

The purchase of the needed Household generator parts went smoothly and satisfactorily or at least as far as I could tell. I had seen many types of transactions of goods and services. In some, the set price was just that, no haggling, no dealing - take it or leave it. Others involved quiet manipulation, a give and take of genteel bargaining - a game of strategy. Still others were a loud shouting match, as if the buyer and seller were mortal enemies, the victor being the one with the largest set of lungs.

ArWrenik handled the negotiations with the parts dealers for the Household. He'd engage in idle conversation with the sellers, talking about it seemed anything at all, but the business at hand. For at hand it was, for under the cover of a black cloth the pair, buyer and seller, would exchange hand signals fast and furious under its privacy while talking about the weather, the last race, the breeding of artangs or any other piece of gossip. The terms apparently agreed upon the cloth would be removed and the two would seal the agreement with a full embrace.

The purchases having been concluded early left the majority of the day left for exploring the meagre entertainments of the village. As the other members of the Household engineering crew were taking delivery of the parts and bringing them back to the camp, ArDenik suggested that we spend some time enjoying the refreshments at the cantina I had visited last night. With ArCorday towed away by his parents, we headed toward The Artang's Tail.

Tangish, I now deemed, was not just a smaller version of Cornet, the capital city of Corellia, but a tamer, more benign variation. Other than the cantina toward which we were headed, I had seen little of the vices catered to and encouraged on Cornet. But if Tangish was to be compared to Cornet, it was that it did not illuminate its sins under the twin suns of a binary system, but rather hid them under the broad shadow cast by a bantha.

The ArDenik stood looking at the door of a building undecided, his hands sweating he rubbed them on his thighs.

"Those days are over, my friend." ArWrenik hooked him by his arm and led him away. "Those days are over. Let's go buy something for ArLinnote and your wife before we hit The Artang's Tail."

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea." ArDenik clasped his younger friends, shoulder with his hand. "Thanks."

The small shop spilled outdoors with half its goods displayed outside in the warm afternoon sun. I occupied myself with not even half-heartedly perusing the wares for sale. Having nothing specific to buy, I was not in the least bit interested to finding something to purchase by chance. Besides with the few dataries to my name, I could find better uses to spend them on.

Therefore, waiting for the other two to emerge from the shop was actually what I was doing when the sight of two young children caught my eye. Correlated to ArCorday, the girl was a year older and the boy younger by the same time span. Playing among the bolts of cloth and other merchandise the two children hadn't noticed me until the girl ran into me.

Sheer terror replaced the glee that had been there moments before. Frozen in her tracks she looked up at me like a wounded nerf facing a hungry rancor. The fear on her face was not the scared look of children when confronted with a stranger, she was frightened because she recognised who I was. Never had I encountered being viewed as someone sinister to fear, always the fear had been the realisation of a Jedi's impending justice. Even as I thought to myself that I hoped I never see that look again I had the strange sensation that it would, soon, become a familiar sight to all Jedi. Cold dread caused me to shiver.

The little girl back-stepped to put more distance between us before turning tail and grabbing her brother as she ran toward her mother inside the shop. I felt like running after her to explain, "No, wait, I'm the good guy." I knew that it would be to no avail.

Intending to see what was taking my two friends so long and bored with the inventory outside, I eased my way into the shop. ArDenik and ArWrenik were waiting patiently for the shopkeeper to finish his dealings with a woman at the counter. The pair stood off to the side trying to be as little noticed as possible for at the counter was the children's mother dressed in the solid dark blue of Tangol, ArMarth's Household.

***

The woman had a pile of provisions in front of her, nothing of the best quality and nothing that could be deemed luxuries. My eyes were drawn to the bolts of cloth that predominated the pile topped by the only two items that were not strictly necessities, two small pieces of sorsallap.

Looking down at the little boy and girl I observed that their clothing was as well worn as their mother's. Household Tangol was not prospering for the children's clothing was not just patched, but had been let out to accommodate the children's growth and even this had been exceeded for much of the little ones, limbs extended beyond the hems of the garments. Blissfully unaware of the hard decisions their mother was making, the two children were playing around her.

The woman recounted the credits in her hand. But no matter how many times she tallied the sum, their number would not increase and the answer was still lacking in quantity.

The woman in dark blue fingered the ring on her hand. Off it came it seemed before she lost her courage and changed her mind. Handing it quickly to the merchant, he held it up to appraise its value. Held up by the shopkeeper to the light, I could see that the blue pearl was an extremely small one, nothing like the size of the one on the pin I had given ArLinnote. The merchant shook his head, its value was worth more in the sentiment it held rather that in hard currency. He handed the ring back to the Tangol woman and started to equate the pile of goods in proportion to the number of credits by taking items back. He started with the candy.

This was too much for me. Brushing past ArDenik's restraining hand, I approached the counter while fishing for coins in my belt.

I did not have to turn around to know who the footsteps behind me belonged.

"We don't need any kriffing charity from Household Tangeth!" the husband in solid blue bellowed. Even though the man had a blaster strapped to his side, it was apparent he was going to take a more primitive measure to drive home his feelings on my anatomy. This evened the odds as I had being negotiating for the Household and as custom dictated, I was unarmed. What skewed the odds in his favour was his indignant rage at his enemy's offer to donate to his family. I had insulted his ability to provide for his family. Even I knew I had a losing hand and it was time to fold. I froze.

Instinctively, ArDenik and Obi-Wan stepped protectively closer to me, ArDenik's hand dropping to his blaster and the Jedi's to his lightsabre. But Obi-Wan checked himself and stayed ArDenik's hand. In a strange voice accompanied by a small wave of his hand, the young Jedi said, "There is no need for violence. I'm sure there is a misunderstanding here."

The Tangol husband's anger subsided and with a confused look on his face repeated the Jedi's words, "There is no need for violence. I'm sure there is a misunderstanding here."

Obi-Wan made another hand gesture in the direction of the merchant and stated in the same odd voice, "Your transactions were complete. He was just in a hurry to make his own purchase."

Obi-Wan's words were repeated, but by the shopkeeper this time who shook his head as he stated them to the woman's husband.

"Stinking Tangeth, can't even wait your turn," the man in solid blue hissed.

"Sorry, it won't happen again," I apologised in relief.

"It better not, or I'll have to teach you some manners."

Obi-Wan made one more discreet wave toward the merchant. The pile of goods on the counter were soon being packaged up including the two pieces of red candy.

***

The Artang's Tail offered a sampling of off-world intoxicants including Corellian whiskey which I favoured and since I was buying, it was favoured by all. The drink always seemed exotic to me and that probably had much to do with my taste for it. Obi-Wan who up to this point had seemed content to follow along insisted that we sit in the back. The man nearly slumped in his seat seemly as if to hide. I did notice that he tended to attract attention.

ArWrenik had done a superb job today. Why then, can't the man play a decent game of sabacc? It was better than his usual which was hard to beat and so I had dataries to burn. Father wouldn't approve, but he wasn't here. That man wouldn't part with an extra credit if his life depended on it. Except for that banquet for the Jedi. I haven't seen him spend money like that in an artang's age. ArTesia's dress itself cost the equivalent of ten charlonis.

ArWrenik, understandably, was in the mood to drink as was the Jedi. I hadn't known him long but he hadn't shown himself to be much of an indulger. We weren't getting sloshed, just in case ArMarth was here. I was fairly certain he wasn't, since he rarely left his Household anymore. His men always seemed to be here though even if didn't seem like they ever had any credits. There shouldn't be any more trouble if he isn't here, not unless ArWrenik and his heart of gold decide to do charity work again. Here's a man who could spend credits, yet everything he touches seems to turn into more charlonis.

I took a sip from my glass and mused what Corellia must look like. I wonder if the Jedi has been there. It must be great to go wherever you want, whenever you want.

I brought up the events in the shop. "It must be nice to be able to change people's minds to your liking," I said.

Obi-Wan thought for awhile before answering. "It is my liking because it serves the Force. Had we confronted the man it would have disturbed the peaceful flow of the Force. I'm not sure I found the best solution to the problem, I did cheat the merchant out of profit."

"It's the shopkeeper who is a cheat, his prices are too high. He could well afford to lose a few credits," ArWrenik downed the rest of his drink.

I motioned for another round.

"Use of the Force is more of a responsibility than anything else. The ramifications of my actions affect everything since the Force is what unifies all things. What I do, or not do, has to be best for everyone. I don't think I did this today."

"If I could do what you can do, I would have done the same." ArWrenik stared at the young Jedi. "And had him put in more treats for the children."

"I keep wondering what my Master would have done."

"What's done is done," I added.

We did not have long to ponder the consequences of the Jedi apprentice's actions before he perked up sitting straight in his chair. He closed his eyes for a moment while ArWrenik and I looked at this new event. Opening his eyes, the Jedi seemed as if he had cleared his head and scrambled from the table.

I slammed a few credits down to cover our tab and motioned for ArWrenik to follow which was not needed. Running down the street weaving our way around the village's crowds, we trailed behind the sprinting Jedi.

In front of a saddlery shop, I recognised ArMistal, one of our men father had sent with ArTesia to greet the Jedi. Mounted on his dark chestnut mare, he was surrounded by ArMarth's men. ArThimoll, a Tangol man of about the same size as the small, blonde ArMistal, was taunting him and nudging his larger bay mount into Mistal making her give way. Fiery in nature, the mare was irritated and was making her mood known. Lashing out at her tormentor, she was kicking at him with her hind foot and trying to bite him. ArMistal, busy with his own argument with the man, was trying to keep the dancing Mistal under check.

Bumped once again, Mistal had enough. Ignoring the commands of ArMistal, she reared up and lashed out at the larger artang with her front hooves and biting him savagely. Until this point it had been a war of words, escalated by Mistal's actions the men of Household Tangol responded by drawing their blasters.

Unable to restrain his mount, ArMistal was equally unable to draw his weapon. "Control your artang!" ArMistal's antagonist challenged him as his comrades hurled insults at the trapped man and his mount.

Desperate, ArMistal changed tactics and now encouraged his mare in her assault as he reached for his blaster. Before ArMistal could draw his weapon, Obi-Wan's lightsabre was now open for business. All attention turned to the Jedi holding the humming, blue blade electrifying the air with its energy. Grasping his symbol and means of justice two-handed and high over his right shoulder, Obi-Wan gracefully assumed a balanced stance of readiness.

"Saved by the Jedi again, Tangeth?" ArThimoll taunted. "I suppose somebody has to protect you since you can't do it yourself."

"More like Tangol has to ambush one of us with an army," I retorted indicating the men surrounding ArMistal with the barrel of my blaster.

The Tangol man ignored me and addressed Obi-Wan. "What about you Jedi? Are you going to just stand there or are you going to talk me to death like this colt of ArRegenth?"

Obi-Wan brought his laser sword in closer to defend himself against the Tangol man's blaster now aimed at his chest. "Where is your sire, Jedi?" The man looked around in pretence. "Talking with ArRegurgitath?"

Incensed, insulted and ignored, I fired at the man.

Obi-Wan reached out with one arm and the man was driven from the artang's back and sent flying through the air to land unceremoniously on his back saving him from the blue bolt.

A barrage of blaster fire erupted as the men of Tangol spread out surrounding us. Deflecting oncoming fire, Obi-Wan's lightsabre became a whirl of blue light shielding myself and the defenceless ArWrenik. ArMarth's men kept at Obi-Wan forcing him to keep in motion spinning around us. If I did not see it with my own eyes I would have though it impossible for the Jedi, attacked from all sides, to be able to block all the incoming energy bolts. It seemed as if he knew when and where the next one would arrive.

Hampered in my aim by the moving bodies of the artangs and the imported liquids from Corellia, I was unable to get a clear shot at the circling men of Tangol. Obi-Wan was beginning to fatigue from the unremitting blaster fire and was breathing hard. Finally, I got the clear shot I was waiting for and took down the rider of a dark grey who slid from its back to the ground. As the grey stood over its fallen rider, nickering plaintively and nosing the man's body in concern, this momentary distraction allowed Obi-Wan to release one hand from his hilt. Reaching out, he quickly disabled two blasters melting their barrels and flinging a third away from the fingers of another.

While we were being assaulted, ArMistal wasn't being ignored for I was able to glimpse the man engaged in his own stand-off with ArThimoll. Blasters aimed at each other, it was an impasse that they had held during the length of the light fight.

At the sound of the grey's distress ArMistal must have been distracted himself. Blasting ArMistal through the chest, ArThimoll then took aim and fired at the dark chestnut mare. The small mare rose into the air in shock and pain, the charred hole in her chest smoking with singed hair and flesh. It would be the fiery mare's last act of protest for she was dead before she landed.

A moment too late the security forces of Tangish rode up to quell the skirmish between our two Households as ArMarth's men rode off. Panting heavily and dripping with sweat, Obi-Wan quenched his lightsabre and stood wavering slightly unsteady. ArWrenik lent his support lest the young Jedi keel over. "Are you all right?" the lanky man asked.

"I'll be fine. It's tiring drawing on the Force that much."

The men of Tangish, dressed in the scarlet and gold of their household, began questioning me as they looked over the scene of two dead men and one dead artang. As was proper, they were most concerned over the dead artang and I knew what action they would take and it pleased me to no end. While Households are as self-sufficient as possible the few goods that required purchasing at Tangish were vital necessities and the next village was nearly a month away. Although I was grieved that ArMistal and his Mistal had to pay for it with their lives, I nearly smiled. Household Tangol and ArMarth are as good as dead.

Satisfied with my answers and that the fighting was over for the day, the Tangish men draped the dead Tangol over his mourning mount and led it away.

"Aren't they going after them?" Obi-Wan inquired with knit brows.

"No, they won't get involved. It's between us and Tangol," I answered.

"Are they banned from the village?" ArWrenik asked me.

I nodded.

As the repulsor-sled was already laden for the return trip home, Obi-Wan levitated the body of Mistal back to camp as my stallion carried the corpse of ArMistal. This caused quite the scene in the village, as blaster shot artangs were a rare sight and a floating artang was a never before seen spectacle.

Still at a distance from the tents of our camp, we spied an artang standing among the members of the Household. Obi-Wan turned to me and gave me a questioning look for he knew the artangs of the Household were enjoying their freedom on the plains with the artangs of the other Households. I shrugged my shoulders, I didn't know why he was there either.

Nearly there, I recognised the artang as being the large bay gelding Thimoll of the man who shot ArMistal and Mistal.

ArCorday ran from the group toward Obi-Wan, staring in disbelief at the sight of the dead artang hovering in the air. "What does he want?" I asked ArCorday. Engrossed, ArCorday did not respond. I repeated my question more forcefully.

The artang approached me with his head bowed. I turned my attention to the artang and addressed him instead, "Greetings, Thimoll."

(Greetings, heir to Tangeth and Denik,) the bay Thimoll said.

(Why are you here?) Denik asked, looking around.

(I left,) Thimoll said simply.

(Where are you going?) Denik asked.

(Here, if you will take me,) the bay stated.

"This will cause trouble." I shifted uncomfortably in my saddle.

***

I needed to put down the body of the mare for I was tiring and afraid I would soon drop it. "ArCorday?" I whispered to the small boy. "Where are the sleds?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me where they are," I stated trying to keep my voice calm in response to the small boy's inability to comprehend the situation. "I need to put Mistal down."

"This way, Obi-Wan."

Positioning the artang as respectfully as I could atop the laden repulsor-sled, I hoped I hadn't broken any more of the taboos of the Ar. Sitting on the edge of the sled I rested a bit as I questioned ArCorday about the appearance of the Tangol artang as I had only heard one third of the conversation. "I fear there may be repercussions," I stated grimly.

"What are repercussions?"

At another time I would have laughed at the little boy's lack of vocabulary. I defined the word for him and then stated, "Don't worry, it's nothing we can't handle with the Force on our side."

***

Exhausted by the day's events and the late night preparations to ensure an early departure in the morning, I half awoke and wondered to myself if I had been dreaming. I have always been curious what it would be like, since Jedi do not dream. No, they're coming. Grabbing my lightsabre, I was almost out of the tent when ArCorday awoke. "Stay put!" I ordered him.

The sound of blaster fire, shouting men and the panicked whinnying of artangs answered me.

"But, Corday is out there!"

"Stay in the tent!"

Having no moon the night skies of Ar provided little illumination, it being in a particularly star-thick section of the galaxy there was just enough light for the men of Tangeth to make out the forms of their attackers. They did not need to see to know who was firing at them for the shouts of "Artang thieves!" predominated over the clamour.

My lit lightsabre became an instant blaster magnet. Fearing for ArCorday inside the cloth-walled tent, I doused my weapon and dove into a forward roll to put some distance between myself and the tent. Re-igniting my lightsabre, it cast a blue glow over me and once again made me into a favoured target.

The men of Tangeth were quickly finding their mounts and joining in the fire fight. ArDenik astride Denik was yelling orders, clearly determined to take the upper hand this time.

I was at a disadvantage being afoot. The blaster fire was concentrated on me keeping me in non-stop motion dodging and deflecting bolts. More than once I heard, "Get the Jedi!"

Concentrating on reaching out to the Force to locate the enemy in the near darkness, I was not aware of the large body of the artang until it was almost bumping into me. It was Thimoll. I sensed the artang wanted to join the fight and was waiting for me to mount.

Leaping onto Thimoll's broad back, the large bay was off and running as soon as he felt me atop him. Experienced and cunning, after guiding him a few times the artang knew without aid where to place me so that I could best bring my lightsabre to bear.

Even though he was the one attacked, ArDenik had taken control of the situation, leading the fight out into the plains and away from the encampment. The fight did not last long as the raid was not well organised and ArDenik soon put them to flight.

Morning light found the field littered with dead men, pieces of dead men and the scarlet and gold men asking questions and hauling the dead of Tangol away.

***

"Did you get enough?" ArDenik asked ArThom.

ArThom nudged his mount alongside Denik and passed a package to ArDenik. "No." The balding man shook his head. "It's in short supply."

"We'll have to stop at Tangor, see if ArFavon has any." ArDenik twisted around and carefully placed the package in one of his saddle bags.

Our caravan was pressing hard on the return trip skipping Household stopovers. ArDenik had sent ArThom back to the village on the onset of our journey and he only now caught up with us. What is in that package?

A cold front passed over the plains quickly changing the wind's direction. Promising heavy precipitation the towering cumulonimbus clouds didn't deliver. The cold polar winds first brought light rains and then flakes of snow as our mourning caravan returned home.

I, other than donning my cloak, ignored the chill in the air. If not for the cargo of the dead on the repulsorsleds, I would have enjoyed myself. Thimoll was a mount that was suited to my liking. We had made an instant team since the night of Tangol's attack on our camp. I felt wonderful atop Thimoll as if we were made for each other. Having only ridden Tamagra before, I couldn't understand the affection these people had for their artangs. I reasoned that just like a lightsabre must feel right to a Jedi, the right artang must have the same sensation to the Ar. And Thimoll felt right to me.

Thimoll and the other artangs, in spite of the sombre mood that befitted the circumstances, were invigorated by the sharpness in the air causing them to quicken our hurried pace. In the lead once again with ArDenik and ArCorday, I felt that if I gave Thimoll any indication that I wanted him to move even the slightest bit faster we would have taken off across the grasslands like a laser bolt.

The conversations among the caravan were kept to a minimum, no one being in the mood for idle chatter unlike the onset of the trip. Even loquacious ArCorday was stoic. For added to the death toll that originally included only ArMistal were two more Ar: ArRacham, the sole woman of the Household engineering crew and ArFulah, one of the hunters ArDenik had sent after the jarren. To the list of dead artangs, ArWrenik's brown stallion Wrenik was recorded.

Normally congenial ArWrenik had become inconsolable. ArDenik had him placed under guard not letting anyone near him and explained to me that it was for ArWrenik's protection as well as everyone else's. That the man might commit suicide was a possibility in my mind, but that he might harm others was just not in peaceful ArWrenik. When I had asked the Herd Stallion's heir about this, ArDenik had said, "You will see."

I patted the neck of Thimoll once again wishing I could talk to the artang to thank him for his gallant efforts the other night. I had been trying to reach his mind through the Force, but I wasn't having any success. "ArCorday?" I had an idea. "I'd like to try something."

"What?" my small companion asked with eagerness to do anything with me.

"I want you to talk to Thimoll."

"What do you want me to say?" He looked at Thimoll.

"Oh, anything, thank him for the other night, but keep the conversation going."

"Why?" he wondered.

"I'd like to probe your mind to look for the connection you make with the artangs to see if I can follow it so I can talk to Thimoll, too," I explained.

"Oh, that's easy. You just talk to them."

"But I can't. I want to find out how you do it."

"Will it hurt?" he asked.

"No, you'll only feel the odd sensation of me being inside your head, joining your thoughts."

The six-year-old's brain was not as complex as an adult's. The neurones, although there were more of them, did not have the heavy branching of dendrites that experience and learning produces. I followed the pathways that seemed most active, trailing the connections across the synapses. I located where the boy was communicating with the artang. There, in the left temporal lobe at a language centre. But something was different about the boy's brain, there was no activity across the connection between the two hemispheres of the brain, the corpus callosum, that allows the two halves to transfer information, to communicate with each other.

I used the boy's pathways to communicate with the artang. "Greetings, Thimoll."

(Who is this?) the artang asked, turning his head around trying to look at me.

"I am Obi-Wan."

(Obi-Wan? Not ArObi-Wan? Have you no artang?)

"No, just Obi-Wan Kenobi. I wanted to thank you."

(We make a good team.)

"I think so, too." I patted his neck again.

(How are you talking to me? I hear your words through the boy.)

"I'm talking through him. I can't speak to you directly, yet. I think I can be able to with a little work on my part."

(I would like that. We would make an even better team.)

"My thoughts exactly."

(Tamagra said you are a Jedi. What is a Jedi? She couldn't explain. Does it have something to do with your blue fire-stick?)

"I'll explain all later when I can talk to you directly, Thimoll."

My probing of the boy's mind explained much to me, the nickers and whinnies that the artangs made were not language, but rather sounds made to put emotion or emphasis to their words much like a human uses their hands and facial expressions. The real communication was directly through the Force, for the Ar and their artangs were quite literally of one mind. The Ar had no connection between the two hemispheres of their brains, it was the artangs who supplied the link between the two halves allowing the Ar to function normally.

This discovery explained ArWrenik's now exceedingly strange behaviour. Now on third day of the return leg of our trip, the man had gone from being grief stricken to exhibiting signs of mental illness.

He had two personalities, one was almost like the normal man, kind and caring, the other was vastly different, bellicose and angry. It went beyond a split personality, for both persona occupied his body at the same time, each with control of half of his body and often fighting each other for complete dominance.

ArDenik's precautions had not been without due cause, for ArWrenik had become a danger both to himself and others. At the morning meal, his two hands had fought over control of the eating utensil, which frustrated him causing his left hand to attack one of his guards while his right tried to prevent it. Only the sanity imposed by the guards, blaster carbines, stopped the power struggle.

As ArWrenik's condition worsened and the Household grew nearer, our caravan's pace quickened even more. The long-horned charlonis were pressed hard to keep up. Just as the life forces occupying the Tangeth Household entered the extreme edges of my sphere of awareness in the Force, ArDenik raised his right arm to call forth a messenger to notify the Household of our imminent arrival since we had not come across any boys tending herd on the outskirts.

That was all the stimulus Thimoll needed for an excuse to take off at a flat-out, no-holds-barred run. The artang raced toward the Household increasing his speed until the grasslands beneath him were a green blur whose sole existence seemed to be for the express purpose of providing the artang a launching platform to propel itself into its next long stride.

Gathering and extending his long limbs, the rhythmic movement of Thimoll's muscles provided the tempo for the percussion of his hooves digging into the land, ripping out notes of sod and soil. Burning bright within the Force, the artang was a rhapsody of unrestrained movement, the rapture of freedom and the ecstasy of being alive.

I drank in the life-giving Force and inebriated by its vibrant intoxication gave into its pleasure. Liberating the reins, I stretched out my arms letting the air rush by my body caressing it with a thousand wisps.

The staccato rhythm of the artang drummed the beat to the melody of being, reverberating it through my body calling for a response in harmony with it. Arching my back to face the heavens above, Obi-Wan Kenobi answered the call, shouting out in a primal proclamation.

If my theme was a hymn to the Force, it was not sung solo, but in duet. For he was waiting for me at the edge of the courtyard and the quiet dignity of the Jedi Master, cloaked and hooded against the chill of the northern wind, stood in counterpoint to the currents of movement across the dark brown robe.

***

Once again, the repairs to the Household generator were put on hold. "Looks like we'll have to prepare for a renaming ceremony," the Herd Stallion had stated when told of the misfortunes of the caravan. Busy with those preparations, the Household left us to ourselves.

//What danger are you afraid lurks in the bath, Padawan?//I looked at his lightsabre laying atop his armful of a change of clothing.

//Cold water.// Obi-Wan gave a shudder.

//Just don't short it out, again,// I warned.

//You're just jealous you didn't think of it,// he retorted.

//And don't forget to shave,// I admonished.

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his three-day-old stubble. //Shave? I think you neglected that part of my training,// he thought with a smirk on his face before he ducked into the doorway of the baths to avoid the wet towel I flung at him for his impudence.

***

I sensed the familiar presence of my Padawan on the other side of the door. Obi-Wan had only been gone a week, but I had to admit to myself I had missed my friend. Opening the door myself before Obi-Wan had the chance to knock, I was greeted with a plateful of food floating chest high and a Jedi apprentice holding another while preparing to knock with the freed hand.

//I thought we'd eat in private to catch up on things.//

//Sounds good.// I grabbed the hovering plate from the air and led the way to the small table in the room.

My apprentice, dressed in the green and blue borrowed clothing of ArSeng, followed, noticing that outside the wall of windows the fall of snow had increased. Illuminated by the glowlamp in the room the flakes of snow drifted lazily downward as the wind from the north had settled down. He stood awhile, entranced. Snow had always fascinated him having seen so little of it in his life. Here inside the Household, since ArRegenth had made arrangements to borrow firewood from Household Tangor, we were warm, dry and about to share dinner, all was well and the weather outside was reduced to splendid scenery.

//Beautiful up here, isn't it?// he asked.

I was taken aback by my Padawan's statement. I searched Obi-Wan's face for any sign of teasing from my often sarcastic apprentice. There was none. Obi-Wan was being earnest.

//Yes, it is,// I agreed uncomfortably. //Come, sit down. Tell me of your travels.//

Thus invited to talk at length, he related his experiences including his influence over the merchant. //It felt right, but still, I am uncertain if what I did was right.//

//Are you uncertain if what you did was wrong?//

//That is the same question.// He looked perplexed.

//Is it, now?//

Obi-Wan didn't reply for awhile, thinking. //No, it is not.//

//Then, are you uncertain what you did was wrong?//

//No,// my apprentice thought with conviction. //But, I keep wondering what you would have done.//

//Respect for me I always knew you had, however, I follow my own path as must you.//

//But . . . //Obi-Wan started to counter, but then checked himself. //Yes, Master.//

Strange, I thought to myself. Usually, he would have continued his argument.

//Master, I am concerned about ArWrenik.// He explained the peculiar actions of the dead artang's rider, his discoveries in probing ArCorday's mind and his desire to talk directly to Thimoll.

//Yes, Padawan, I found the same anomaly in ArTesia. I feel time spent in mediation will reveal much.//

//ArMarth?// Obi-Wan inquired.

I nodded. //Yes.//

Having finished dinner, we sat as was our habit cross-legged on the floor facing each other to meditate together. "There is no emotion; there is peace," we repeated words form the Jedi Code in unison. "There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the Force." Exploring the landscape of the Force for guidance, calm and in quiet contemplation, we followed where it led.

Emerging from his mediations, Obi-Wan arose to retire to his room for the night.

//Obi-Wan?//

He paused at the door and turned to face me still sitting on the charlonis rug as I loosed my hair from its gather for the night.

//I would have done the same thing.// I rose and unhooked my lightsabre, placing it under my pillow.

//Thank you, Master.// Obi-Wan smiled.

//May the Force be with you, my Padawan.//

***

We were awakened early in the morning by the chanting, just as the first hint of the sun started to lighten the western sky. At first, it was just a few voices, but as the members of the Household awoke they added to the intonation until it seemed the entire Household reverberated with its droning hum. To me, it brought to mind the rites of the Temple, especially the trials, for the Jedi order also chants at high ceremonies drawing on the Force and bringing all in harmony with it. The Household's chanting had a similar effect for the Household glowed brightly with the living Force.

ArTesia arrived at my door. "It is time," she stated.

Obi-Wan retrieved his cloak from his room and we followed ArTesia down the suspended stone stairway and headed toward the terrace that overhung the spring's run. Passing the terrace, we climbed another stairway to a covered open gallery on a third level. The sea of green and blue parted to make way for us. Overlooking the spring itself, the loggia was packed with chanting members of the Household. The rim of the circular spring was surrounded by an even denser crowd.

Beyond that on the snow-dusted plains was a large round area whose radius was delineated by banner poles draped with the blue and green of the Household's colours. Three funeral pyres set up on the exterior of the circle burned bright. A fourth bier on the interior, unlit, held the body of brown Wrenik.

Huge drums inside the circle set the beat for the chanting. Artang inth Ar. Artang inth Ar. Artang inth Ar.

The crowd beneath us divided and I could make out ArRegenth in the lead followed by ArDenik both dressed in full regalia including dunt wolf head-dresses. Behind them came his other two sons, ArSeng and ArOrham, hauling a resisting ArWrenik to the edge of the spring. With his hands tied behind his back, ArWrenik was fighting the two men, trying the escape.

Reaching out to the Force, Obi-Wan and I enhanced our range of sight and hearing.

ArWrenik's long hair was no longer neatly gathered in the back, but was a tangled mess of knots. With wild eyes and distraught and anger etched into his face, ArWrenik was straining against the fetters holding his hands and twisting his long body to escaped the grasp of ArRegenth's sons. Growling savagely and screaming incoherently, he no longer capable of speech. Spitting and kicking, he was more of a wild animal than the friendly man he once was.

ArThom and ArInadagell came to assist the two brothers. Stripping ArWrenik naked by cutting off his clothing with a vibroblades and slicing through his necklace of dunt wolf fangs last, they then stripped down themselves and then dove into the spring. The Herd Stallion's sons picked up ArWrenik, one by his shoulders and one by his now tied feet and swung him into the water. With the snow on the ground and the chill in the air, I thought to myself that even with Jedi resistance to extremes of heat and cold I would have fought as hard as ArWrenik to being so tied and then thrown into the water.

The two assistants in the spring kept the tied ArWrenik from drowning even though they dunked the sputtering, screaming man under the surface of the water repeatedly. Once the apparently required number was reached, they returned him to the banks.

ArSeng and ArOrham retrieved the man as ArLinnote towelled the man dry. Then as they forced the man down onto a large sheet of cloth, she began to shave ArWrenik completely, starting with the hair on his head.

As the hair removal process ensued, the crowd around us began to pass around flagons, most drinking deeply before handing the vessel to the person next to them. I scanned the assembled members of the Household and I noticed their eyes beginning to lose focus and their faces assuming a far away gaze. I did not think it was jaffa or ale. Soon a mug was handed to ArTesia who after drinking passed it to me. Sniffing the contents carefully, I recognised the earthy aroma of fungi. I took a deep draught and passed it to my apprentice.

Obi-Wan looked over at me for instructions. //We'll practice working on changing the chemical this time instead of your body chemistry. Take a small sip. If you get overwhelmed, do not panic. I'll stay connected with you in case you get in trouble.//

//Yes, Master.// Sampling the concoction, Obi-Wan passed the flagon on.

The chanting and the slow beating of the drums persisted. Artang inth Ar. Artang inth Ar. Artang inth Ar.

ArLinnote had finished shaving the man's groin and continued down his legs, shaving ArWrenik until there was not a hair on his body. ArSeng and ArOrham cut the binds on his feet and jerked the man up. ArLinnote gathered the cloth together retaining the removed hair, clothing and necklace.

The chanting crowd around us streamed out of the loggia and down the stairs. I supported ArTesia, unsteady and eyes glazed over, by the arm as we eased down the stairs toward the circle.

Inside the circle, we stood at the front of the throng, the crowd having cleaved for us. Large white predatory avians were perched amid the perimeter among the banner poles. In the centre, covered in the sea-green and ocean-blue was a large table or altar. Off to one side, almost two dozen pure-white charlonis calves were tethered, on the other, two piles of the man's belongings were arranged.

Struggling and unclothed, ArWrenik was propelled toward the cloth-covered altar. Intensifying his struggle for a fleeting moment, he wrested himself free of his captors. With the help of ArDenik who subdued him with a smashing blow to the man's face using a two-handing clasp of his hands, the two brothers quickly recaptured him.

Obi-Wan's chest pressed against my arm restraining him and I applied more pressure to prevent his forward motion. Relenting, Obi-Wan obeyed me, but stood tense and ready lest I changed my mind.

A flagon was passed to ArLinnote who with the help of ArTesia's two brothers forced ArWrenik to swallow, coughing and gagging. Spattering some up to mix with the blood from his nose, it stained the sides of his face. Once he had downed most of the liquid in the vessel, he was hauled onto the top of the altar and tied down.

ArDenik approached the funeral bier of Wrenik and with a large knife cut off the artang's tail and raising it high overhead for the crowd to see, he then placed it at the feet of ArWrenik. A torch was handed to ArDenik and making his way to the body of the dead artang, he lit the artang's pyre. As it burst into flames sending thick smoke into the air, the Herd Stallion's heir walked with his father to the two piles of the man's possessions.

Just then the artangs of the Household appeared running from the stables, they continued to circle the outside of the circumference of the banner poles. Outnumbering the members of the Household, the roar of their thundering hooves almost drowned out the sound of the chanting Household and the drums. In the course of their circuit, the ground was pulverised into mud.

As the artangs continued in their peripheral path, ArDenik waited and then removed a metal instrument from the flames of the pyre. Glowing-hot at the end of its long handles was a flat, round metal piece like a cuff. He neared the prone body of ArWrenik and enclosed the man's forearm over where his tattoos encircled his arm. Despite the effects of the hallucinogenic drug, ArWrenik screamed and arched his body as the branding iron seared off all traces of the clan tattoos. Returning the brands to the fire to reheat them ArDenik repeated the process on the other arm while ArWrenik's body and face where still contorted from the first treatment causing the man's screams to amplify.

ArLinnote was already applying an ointment to the burn welts as two members of the Household hurried to each arm, starting the re-tattooing process above the brands.

ArDenik made his way to the two piles of the man's possessions. Raising both of his arms into the air to stop the drumming and chanting, he stood behind them as he proclaimed loudly, "Who speaks for him whom cannot speak?"

"I do," a man stated as he stepped forward.

"Know you who he was?" ArDenik interrogated him.

"I do, for the stranger was my son." ArWrenik's father then walked behind the piles of possessions to stand next to ArDenik. "Does the stranger have any debts with any of the Household?" ArWrenik's father appealed loudly. No one spoke as his father scanned the crowd. "Let it be known that the stranger has no debts," he proclaimed. "Does the stranger have any unfulfilled promises?"

ArLinnote stepped forward as she removed the blue pearl pin from her clothing to hand it to him. "The stranger had a promise of marriage with me."

"Is there anyone here who wishes to keep the promise of marriage for the stranger?" ArWrenik's father proclaimed.

ArThom stepped forward. The crowd started muttering among themselves at the turn of events. "I do," stated the large, barrel-chested man.

ArWrenik's father stared as hard as his glassy eyes could focus. He paused for a moment before handing ArThom the pin. "Let it be known that the stranger has no unkept promises."

A flagon was passed Obi-Wan's way. Obi-Wan looked at me. His head was clear and this thoughts were focused. //You're doing fine, Padawan, stay focused.// He chanced a larger swallow before handing the mug to me.

"Does the stranger have any undone deeds?"

ArDenik spoke. "The repairs of the Household generator."

"Is there anyone here who wishes to complete the undone deeds of the stranger?" No one stepped forward or spoke. "Is there anyone here who wishes to complete the undone deeds of the stranger?" ArWrenik's father implored.

I saw Obi-Wan look at his friend's hairless, naked body shivering on the table, arms welted red with the brands while being re-tattooed and eyes unfocused with the drugging effects of the drink. I did not obstruct him.

"I do," Obi-Wan stated as he stepped forward.

"Let it be known that the stranger has no undone deeds."

With that large, curved horns of charlonis were blown into making a deep resounding blare that startled the perched birds. Screeching loudly and out-stretching their meter-long wings in attempt to take flight, the birds strained against their tethers.

As the crowd resumed chanting and the drummers threw their weight into making the huge instruments beat, ArLinnote flung the cloth containing ArWrenik's hair, clothing and dunt wolf necklace into the fire sending sparks flying upward into the falling flakes of snow. ArWrenik's father did likewise with the smaller of the two piles which mainly contained a saddle and other artang related equipment.

At this one of the artangs broke from the circle to enter inside. The brown stallion stood in front the altar with his sides heaving from his exertion. His sweat-lathered coat steamed in the chill of the air.

ArCorday made his appearance and ArDenik raised both his arms calling for silence. Once the throng had quieted, ArCorday began his recitation. "Artang inth Ar."

The crowd responded, echoing the refrain.

ArCorday then intoned, "Herth inth Mellish. Mellish inth Groppa. Groppa inth Jimor. Jimor inth..."

He continued on with the genealogy of the brown stallion standing in front of the altar holding ArWrenik as the tattooers worked on his arms applying the new markings, the artang herd raced sending up splatters of mud and the members of the Household drank from the flagons.

ArDenik produced several packets of neatly folded opaque paper and carefully unwrapped the contents exposing them to the light of the late morning sun. He arranged them on the altar at ArWrenik's head.

//Spice. A small fortune in spice.//

Used to provide a brief telepathic boost, the fibrous crystals of glitterstim were photoactive, becoming potent in the presence of light. The highly addictive product of the spice mines of Kessel, it was a favoured cargo of many smugglers.

"Shoallam inth Wrenik. Wrenik inth Hodijah." ArCorday had reached the end of the lineage with the name of the brown stallion.

ArCorday joined the crowd wedging himself between Obi-Wan and his father. A flagon was being passed this way. ArCorday's father handed it down to his son, helping the small boy drink from the large vessel and then swallowed deeply himself before passing it to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was now having difficulty negating the effects of the hallucinogen and kept the mug in motion. //Master, I need help.//

I passed the mug, concentrating on my wavering apprentice. //Stay focused on the Force, don't lose your concentration,//I instructed him as I lent my support in his mind as an anchor for his whirling mind. I lowered the concentration of the drug in his bloodstream by altering molecules and rendering them harmless. //Better?//

//Yes, Master.//

"Who among us is reclaimed?" ArDenik demanded.

Twenty members of the Household wove their way unsteadily towards the altar, ArTesia among them. Dropping their cloaks, they exposed bare arms all bearing the scars of branding and re-tattooing. I closed my eyes tight as if to shut out the scene that ArTesia once must have been the centre of.

"What must you do?" the Herd Stallion questioned.

"We must never remember and never forget," they intoned as they raised their right arms to show hands each with a missing last digit.

I realised that this man, who had already lost his artang, girlfriend, clothes, hair and dignity was about to lose a finger. And with a solid whack from the knife of ArDenik, he did. Obi-Wan's mind recoiled in empathy for his friend.

As ArDenik cauterised the wound, the drummers recommenced their booming beat that set the rhythm for the restarted chanting joining the continuous thunder of the circling artang's hoof beats. Artang inth Ar. Artang inth Ar. Artang inth Ar.

As the reclaimed group formed a circle around ArWrenik on the altar, their artangs broke from the outside to join them. Behind each stood his artang blowing hard, sending steamy breath against their backs.

A packet of spice was handed to each of the group and one by one they ate its contents followed by deep draughts from a flagon handed around amongst themselves. The crowd's chanting increased in volume and tempo, matched by the drums as the crystals of a packet were forced down ArWrenik's throat and washed down with more of the contents of a flagon. Placing their hands upon ArWrenik, the group started its own chanting. "Never remember and never forget. Never remember and never forget. Never remember and never forget."

The crowd watching the ceremony continued with its own chant clearly deep under the effects of the fungi, but still passing the flagons around now more carefully with two unsteady hands lest it be in danger of spilling or worse yet dropping. It was surreal being fully grounded in reality as everyone around us drifted in their own hallucinogenic visions. A flagon made it way towards us once again. Obi-Wan hesitated. //You'll never improve unless you push yourself. Try again.// Obi-Wan took a small sip. //Obi-Wan, try again. I'm here to teach you. How can I teach you, if you refuse to learn?// My Padawan did as instructed and downed a mouthful. Obi-Wan passed the flagon high over ArCorday's head to his father. ArCorday's father once again held it for the small boy to drink. From the look on Obi-Wan's face, I knew if the flagon made its way around once more, its circuit would end before it reached ArCorday. The contents would somehow end up soaking into the ground.

ArWrenik screamed as his body strained against the ropes tying him and then stopped, going limp. All at once the chanting, drums and artangs stopped as well. The silence was deafening.

The man looked around him, bewildered. His previously unfocused eyes were sharp and lucid.

"Who are you, stranger?" ArDenik asked him.

"I... I am ArHodijah," he said first with slow realisation and then with a lung-emptying yell. "I am ArHodijah!"

Breaking out in a cheer, the members of the Household started embracing each other with great enthusiasm.

Cut free from his binds, he had to be restrained. But this time, it was to prevent him from greeting Hodijah naked and help him get dressed in new clothing. Mounting the brown stallion with a leap, he took off on the artang to circle the area at a run. The other artangs were not far behind in joining him sending mud flying across the ecstatic, cheering crowd.

Bringing his steed down to a walk he re-entered the circle to complete the last task of the renaming ceremony. Snatching Wrenik's tail from the altar while atop Hodijah, they walked toward the courtyard as the Household followed.

At the archway, ArRegenth handed him blue and green ribbons. He attached these to the brown tail and tied it among the multitude of other hanging there. Turning around, ArHodijah addressed the crowd. "I will never remember and I will never forget."

Rearing into the air and leaping into a run, the pair sped into the sea of grass.

//Very good, Padawan.// I turned and smiled looking into Obi-Wan's clear, bright eyes.

***

I bounded down the stairs taking two at a time intent on my destination. It's so quiet, why isn't anyone up yet? Striding straight to my intended terminus, I touched the light controls and nothing happened. Power's out. Morning light was starting to filter through the windows and finding the glowlamp, I turned it on. I checked one of the chiller units to make sure. Empty, the power's been out for some time. But there was power last night wasn't there? And wasn't the generator just replaced two years ago?

A man entered the kitchen dressed in our Household colours, but I didn't recognise him. We exchanged greetings and I introduced myself and inquired about his identity. That's a strange name.

"Isn't anyone else up yet?" He looked worried.

"No, I don't think so, and there's no power. I think the generator's out, but that can't be, it was just replaced two years ago. The chiller unit is empty and I wanted some flass."

"I'll make some jaffa," he offered looking at me strangely.

"Yuck," I said. How can they drink that stuff?

He headed toward the hearth and unhooked something from his belt. It was a silver and black cylinder. Wait a minute, that's a lightsabre! A blue energy blade extended from the cylinder glowing in the semi-darkness casting a blue light over the man as he used it to light the fire. "You're a Jedi aren't you?" I asked not knowing what to stare at first, the Jedi or his
lightsabre.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Are you here for the new baby?" I felt myself reaching to my neck. Something's missing. What?

The man looked confused. "ArGen's?" he asked.

"ArGen's?" I repeated. ArGen doesn't have a baby, she isn't even married. "No, the new baby, ArMorahom."

He shook his head as if he didn't know the name. "No," he said simply.

"You're not on a search, then?" I asked as a rubbed my hand over my head. I'm bald! What? When did that happen? I got up to look at my reflection in the door of the chiller unit.

"No," he said as he rummaged through the cabinets looking for the jaffa brewer.

"Shh," I warned. "Don't wake up ArMarth. He's got a temper."

He filled the brewer with water and placed it over the fire.

I am bald. Gross. ArDenik! I bet that ArDenik did it in my sleep. I will get him! This is absolutely the last time he does something like this. How dare he. I bet he's laughing his rear off.

"ArHodijah," the Jedi asked me with concern on his face. "What do you remember about yesterday?"

My arms hurt. Why do my arms hurt? What did ArDenik do to them?

"Yesterday? Why, everything. Not that much happened, nothing ever happens while tending the herds. Haven't seen a dunt wolf in ages." I started to pull up my sleeves. "Say, I'm going on my first hunt tomorrow. Are you going to come?"

If the brands and the new tattoos hadn't told me, the Jedi's face would have.

"I'm not going on my first hunt tomorrow, am I?" I asked and then answered myself. "I've been through the renaming ceremony."

"Yes." It appeared the Jedi didn't know what else to say.

"And I'm not fifteen-years-old, am I?"

"No, you're twenty-four."

"Twenty-four? I've lost nine years?" I sat down quickly before I keeled over.

The jaffa now ready, the Jedi poured himself a mug and asked, "Are you sure you don't want some?"

"No," I stated. "Did I like it... before?"

"Yes," he informed me as he poured an additional mug to place in front of me. I took a sip and grimaced at the taste of the bitter brew. "Can I try something, ArHodijah?" the Jedi asked me as he sat down at the table in front of me.

"Sure, what?"

"I'd like to probe your mind. To see what happened." I braced myself, but it didn't hurt. I could feel him in my head yet I really didn't feel anything. It was a strange sensation.

The Jedi removed his hands from my head and resumed drinking from his mug.

"What did you find?" I asked.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "It's all gone. Deleted." I sensed he was keeping something from me. I didn't ask. I didn't want to know.

I drank again, hoping to learn to like it as a hundred questions I did want answered raced through my mind. "Do I... Did I have a girlfriend?" This was my most important question for as of yet I hadn't be able to catch the eye of any girl. I now looked over my body. I'm not as skinny as I was. I've filled out some.

"ArLinnote."

"ArLinnote?" But she is beautiful. How had I managed to do that? My heart sank with the sudden realisation that she was no longer mine and I had no memories of the romance.

"What's the matter?" the Jedi asked, gently.

"I don't remember any of it," I lamented.

I sat silent for awhile wondering what else had occurred during that long time span. I raised my sleeves to re-inspect the new tattoos. A time span that was more than half my life as far as I was concerned. "What is your name again?" I asked.

"Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Are we friends?" I looked into his eyes.

"I think so," Obi-Wan said reassuringly. "Yes, we are."

"I think I'm going to need all the friends I can get. But a Jedi is the only one, I think, that will be enough," I laughed softly. "I also think I'd like to ride that new artang of mine."

"Sounds great, I've got a new artang, also," Obi-Wan rose pushing his chair back.

"Are you reclaimed, too?" I stood.

"No, but he thinks so." Obi-Wan laughed easily.

***

We walked our mounts out past the greening tallgrain fields. Their shoots were emerging from the dark soil in their reach towards the sky, the light snow on the ground having already melted as the weather had warmed since yesterday morning. Riding southward as the sun began its arc across the sky, we travelled in silence.

Once free of the cultivated fields and into the wide expanse of the pastures, ArHodijah pumped me for information about his own life. I felt odd telling the man details about what should be shared reminiscences.

"So, I'm not a good sabacc player?" he asked.

"I've seen worse," I said judiciously.

"But not many, huh?"

"No, not many." I grinned. "But, I can teach you what I know."

"And I was going to help repair the generator? No more tending herd?"

"Yes, I think we're going to need all the help we can get," I said sadly.

"I still can't believe that ArRacham is dead." ArHodijah shook his head. "I was just helping her fix a repulsor-sled the day before yesterday."

"I think we need to get back and start on the generator," I decided, turning Thimoll around.

"Yeah, I'm still hungry," ArHodijah agreed.

We rode silent for a time examining the great nothingness.

"Obi-Wan, what was my ceremony like?" He lifted his face up to the warming sun and closed his eyes.

I described the grim rite in as much detail as I could.

"I managed to escape ArOrham?" he said for the youngest son of ArRegenth was huge, out-weighing him by many kilograms.

"Not for long." I chuckled.

"Sorry I missed it. It sounds sick, but I like the ceremonies. Not the dead artang part, but the mella." ArHodijah look at me for confirmation at shared tastes.

"Mella?" I asked. "What is mella?"

"The drink, made from the mushrooms. It's a shame it's made only for the ceremonies," ArHodijah explained bringing down the corners of his mouth. "Didn't you have any?"

How do I explain? I thought to myself. "No," I said to him.

"You missed out." ArHodijah shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't think so."

***

Obi-Wan and ArHodijah found us in the generator room having already removed the faulty parts. With his vibroblade, ArThom sliced open the tape on a large duraplast box and reaching inside pulled out a clear plastine envelope containing a booklet of plastifilm sheets. Without as much as a glance, the man threw the item over his shoulder into the pile of rubble behind him before removing the new-bright synchrotron ion-turbine damper. I casually made my way to the discarded object and picked it up. The instruction manual, written in several languages, boldly proclaimed in Basic on the front - READ CAREFULLY BEFORE INSTALLATION.

"Those always come with new parts," ArThom informed me. "I don't know what they're for. Do you, Qui-Gon?"

"I never had a use for them either," I admitted.

***

With the additional help of Obi-Wan and the dubious help of ArHodijah, I and the Jedi Master soon had the majority of the new parts installed in the generator before the rest of the Household roused from sleeping off the effects of yesterday's ritual. ArInadagell and ArRacham's sons soon joined us, groggy, but intimate with the temperamental generator having repaired it so often and the chore was close to completion.

Three women were watching and waiting for the generator to be up and running so they could start the next meal which was beginning to look like it was going to be a late lunch seeing as it was past noon. I was keenly aware of the three women and having known them all my life I knew what they were thinking.

Watching all the men equally, she wondered when it was finally going to be her turn to be in control of her own destiny. She had waited patiently, a lifetime's worth, and yet she remained always under another's authority. Yet again, she was having to depend on someone else to determine her ability to finish her own tasks.

Another was studying one man, exclusive. Threaded with silver, his long hair was braided into a functional constraint and his loose khaki-hued garments draped across an anatomy that was imagined unrestrained of them.

The third polarised attention. One man was severed from her and the second, myself, she had not yet bound herself to. The former a pledge of the future with the topology of a Mobius strip and the latter a promise of the future that had no past.

With a final torque of my hydrospanner, I straightened up and turned to the three women, but spoke to ArLinnote. "Before we start it up, make sure everything in the kitchen is turned off. Don't want to blow this thing on the start up." I smiled warmly at her. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired of cold dinners, cold baths..." I ceased, understanding my statement's unintended extrapolation.

ArLinnote blushed.

"I didn't mean..." I started to explain.

ArPorijhan tapping her foot had enough. "Just when can we start the cooking units, and the coolers and the..."

With ArRacham gone and ArHodijah reduced to the mental capacity of a teenager, I found myself thrust into new responsibilities and with those responsibilities came new rights which I now exercised by cutting her off mid-sentence.

"When the lights come on," I clarified to her slowly as if she was a child.

As usual, ArPorijhan stomped off in a huff. ArTesia and ArLinnote trailed behind her.

***

ArHodijah, packing tools away with me, looked up to watch ArLinnote walk away. Speaking without thinking as was the habit of teenagers everywhere, he stated to me, "She is beautiful. She was going to marry me?"

I cringed for I had left out the part of ArThom in my story to ArHodijah thinking at the time I was doing him a kindness. With ArThom standing there, hearing ArHodijah's comments, I knew that was an error.

Before I could silence him, ArHodijah continued confiding in me, but still loud enough to be overheard, he commented on another trait teenagers share - that being the main occupation of their thoughts. "Obi-Wan, do you know if ArLinnote and I, ever, you know..."

"I haven't the slightest idea," I whispered cutting him off to end the discussion before the kid could put his foot in his mouth any deeper.

***

Half the crowd cheered wildly.

Spraying mud, the artang came to a skidding halt that was only fully terminated by its slam into the body of the opposing artang. Thus shoved, the green team's member lost control of the gornis. Artangs and riders set upon each other and fought for dominance over the gornis in a tangled, thrashing mob. Punctuated by grunts, the shouting mud-caked players swore vile retributions underscored by screamed whinnies of the equally dirt-slathered mounts. The tightly packed mass of contenders shoved and pushed as the ground beneath their artang's thrashing hooves was liquefied into a slosh. Reaching down low, blue team's captain managed to get control of the gornis and broke toward the goal line.

Back-stepping quickly, the crowd lining the edge of the field was showered with stinging dollops of sluiced soil as the blue captain swung wide dragging the gornis followed by a posse of green. Grazing the side line, the rider and artang would have been a monotone of brown plaster if it were not for the colour of the rider's eyes for they matched the hidden colour of the shirt beneath its layer of filth. With only meters from the goal line, the unprotected blue was swarmed and forced to relinquish control.

The other half of the crowd now cheered.

Blue riders came to intercept the pack and the melee of shoving artangs with each side fighting over control of the gornis resumed. Leaning over perpendicular to the artang to reach the gornis, green team's captain was pulled from the artang to land hard on the ground. Recovering its advantage, blue once again regained control and dragged the gornis toward its goal again. Still short of its goal, blue was once again prevented in scoring. Hooves lost purchase and several downed artangs tread the firmament before regaining a hold. Green prevailed, grabbing the gornis and racing furiously toward the opposite side of the field. Blue rallied its forces and mid-field engaged their opponent in a lengthy skirmish.

With many dataries riding on the outcome of the game, the crowd urged on which ever side they would profit form.

In trying to wrest the gornis from the opposing team, a blue grabbed for the gornis' tail and a tug-of-war ensued. Pulled in opposite directions, the battered carcass of the charlonis calf separated and the green prevailed with the major part. But the blue player now had a weapon which she brought to bear against the greens, flogging them with the tail she now held in her hand like a whip.

Regardless of monetary alliances, the sidelines erupted into deep-voiced appreciation of her lashing assaults.

Abused beyond its structural limits, the decapitated calf spilt open disgorging entrails. Snaking out in coils, they ensnared the hoof of Linnote whose momentum launched ArLinnote into a trajectory that just the two of us foresaw.

Reaching out to the Force, I held her mid-air until my apprentice brought the rearing Joppa to a halt. With two fingers of my hand extended, I guided ArLinnote in a slow descent to the mud of the field far from the crush of artangs. Obi-Wan allowed Joppa to resume her descent and the crowd now saw what we had prevented. A round of applause was short-lived as the game was halted, called by the officials on the account of game interference. As the players and artangs rested, catching their breath, the referees huddled in conference. It was determined that the game would have a restart.

Negotiations quickly recommenced off-field, new odds calculated and fresh wagers placed.

Walking their artangs midfield the teams lined up once again, as the game officials dragged the once white carcass between the two teams and retreated to the relative safety of the sidelines. A blast from a curved horn set the players in motion against each other and the gornis.

"By the way," ArHodijah at Obi-Wan's side asked. "How many calves were there at my ceremony?"

"Around two dozen."

"Twenty-three," I interjected firmly. //Obi-Wan, be more observant of details.//

ArHodijah smiled broadly as if he had just won the sabacc pot.

"Is that a lucky number?" My apprentice turned from the action on the field to look at the adolescent in the man's body.

"It is for me."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows.

"It means he's wealthy. Each calf represents one hundred head," ArDenik volunteered, his eyes following the battle on the field.

The lean ArHodijah furrowed his brow in concentration. "But..."

ArDenik broke his eye lock on the distaffs, combat to glance at him. "ArWrenik was a hard worker, very industrious. He did well with his inheritance."

"What inheritance?" ArHodijah stared at the side of dark, tall man's face.

"Your brother died."

The crowd cheered.

"When?" He dug the toe of his boot into the ground kicking up a small divot.

"Four years ago."

ArHodijah's face clouded over and his eyes built up water threatening to rain. "But, we were... we were supposed to travel to Tangill... this summer. He had always wanted to go there. To see the ocean."

"You did go."

The rain dropped and he ran.

Roaring with delight at their new found prosperity, the victorious green supporters clasped each other over their success.

Held in check by the arm of ArDenik, Obi-Wan was prevented from following his friend. "Their path differs from ours," ArDenik explained as five men trotted after ArHodijah, all boasting a hand that was missing a finger.

ArPorijhan met the blue captain mid-field and accepted the defeated's congratulations before her side took its victory lap around the field in triumph.

A mud woman riding a mud artang trotted up to me grinning from ear to ear despite her loss. Her blue eyes and the white of her teeth were the only break in the solid brown covering her and her mare.

"There's a spot of dirt on your nose," I stated keeping my face straight.

***

I was sure fate had smiled on me when the cards were in the flux field. Seeing the tragedy that surrounded it, I had come out not with a pure sabacc, but with the idiot's array. Still, it was a winning hand.

"It's just that no matter how hard I tried, it never seemed to be enough. Things rarely worked out for me. It's not that I stopped trying. It's that I stopping striving - trying to excel."

Uncomfortable with my heart now being lain open to her, she looked over to the other pavilions set up at the site of yesterday's renaming ceremony. In celebration of ArHodijah's successful reclamation, our Household continued the rite with the version which included the game of gornis and a roast of the calves representing ArHodijah's stake in the charlonis herds.

"Therefore, if you wish to exercise your right of dormough and refuse to accept my promise I will not stand in your way. I won't claim sadorimach. I'll allow you to marry as you choose."

A winning hand, yet I had to make sure that I bet right to ensure the other player stayed in the game and didn't fold. It wasn't as if I and Lady Luck were on bad terms, but had just not been introduced to each other. I was determined to make a good first impression.

"All I'm asking, ArLinnote, is that you give me a chance. Don't make up your mind yet. Give yourself... us... some time."

She turned her gaze to meet mine. I had never understood when I had seen it in previous renaming ceremonies. Now that it had happened to me, I still did not understand it. I knew she had already made her decision.

"How much time do you need?" she asked.

***

//But the way they abused that poor animal's body...// I thought to Qui-Gon as I wondered to myself what my Master's stomach was made of.

//It was already dead.// The Jedi Master took another bite from the food on his dish.

//Still, it was so inhumane,// I sent to him. Ferroconcrete, I decided to myself, definitely ferroconcrete.

//It's all in your point of view.// He took another bite.

//I don't see how.// I picked at my food not really eating any of it, while watching ArCorday and some of the other children spinning around trying to make themselves dizzy.

//What if the animal's skin had been fashioned into a ball and they had played with that. Would that have been inhumane?//

//That's different.//

The children stopped and stood there wavering, ArCorday fell over.

//How so?//

I didn't have an answer for that and was suddenly not hungry for the roasted charlonis much less their brains boiled in their own blood.

//Truth is a point of view thing.// My Master pointed at me with his eating utensil before popping the morsel it held into his mouth. //You have a certain point of view, as do they.//

***

"Just where do you think you're going?"

"Grenash is sick. Our supplies of sythorim are low. I'm going to get more." She cinched tight the saddle.

"Send ArLinnote."

"She's staying with him, he won't stay on his feet." She placed the bridle over the mare's long head and arranged it behind her round ears.

"Send ArThom."

"He doesn't know a sythorim from a chator reed." She lifted up a platter-sized hoof to inspect and pick at it.

"Find someone else."

"She's my friend." She started with the fourth and final hoof.

"You can't go. I forbid it."

"I am going." She hauled saddle bags across the mare's grey rump securing them tightly.

"I'll go with her," a deep voice resonated.

With those four words, I could not argue for behind them was the oath that my daughter was under a Jedi Master's protection.

***

Riding out towards the east it was already late afternoon. The weather had changed once again to bring warm light rains from the south. ArTesia unfurled a hood encased within her long deeply-vented coat that protected her as much as it did her mare and now aware of its hidden head protection I imitated her actions.

Dotting the endless sea of grass were the herds of the Household punctuating white the green of the expanse. Young boys given a temporary respite from their tedium raced to accompany us for short distances until the bounds of their duties recalled them.

"What will happen to ArHodijah, now?" I asked.

"He will learn to live with the gap in his memory like we all do." She examined her hand.

"How is it no one kept the promise of marriage to you?" I looked off into the distance.

"I never said I was betrothed," she said. I knew she was now staring at the back of my head.

I turned around to face her.

She shook her head. "It doesn't work that way. I was the reclaimed. No one keeps the promises to the reclaimed."

"And now?"

"We are considered to be good luck to our Household. And bad luck to all others. You saw the amount of spice there. It cost our Household dearly to reclaim him... and me."

I gave her a questioning look, she had not answered my question, but I did not press her.

"The renaming ceremony, if survived, cannot not be repeated."

"If survived?"

"Only about half live through it." She dropped her eyes.

I thought about the twenty reclaimed at ArHodijah's rite that represented another twenty. Who had died undergoing what he and ArTesia had withstood.

"So if Hodijah or Tesia were to..."

As she put her fist to her forehead and the look that came over her face I knew not to finish my statement. I changed the subject.

"What if the reclaimed is already married?"

"If there are no children, there isn't any marriage anymore. If there are, then they are remarried, in spite of the one being reclaimed." As I listened to her words, a flock of white jarren, taller than a mounted man, were spooked into running from us. "As the reclaimed tend to have children who survive the ceremony, they are encouraged to marry."

As do Jedi tend to have children with Force abilities. I thought of my three daughters. All strong in the Force.

I pressed her now, asking her again. "And now?"

"And now, I can only marry another of the reclaimed." She shrugged her shoulders.

***

Lying on the bed he had a small holoprojector in his hand which he activated over and over to replay its short scene. The room was trashed. What was not smashed or broken was overturned. I took the few steps to the stone wall and picked up a shard of the mollusc shell from the pile at its base. Turning around, I saw the older brother and his younger sibling once again ride their artangs in the surf splashing up salt water with each stride.

I uprighted a chair and straddling it, sat down. Twirling the piece of shell in my hands, I alternated looking at the shell and the endless loop of the hologram. I said nothing.

"Isn't this where you're supposed to say something stupid, like I'll be all right or I can visit Tangill again?"

"If you want," I offered.

"What I want are my memories back."

"And what stupid thing am I supposed to say to that?"

"That what I really want is my brother back."

The two brothers rode in the surf once again.

***

Although I could go for days without rations or rest, drawing strength from the Force, there were things corporal that I could not put off for very long. I also took advantage of the stop to remove the weather-proof coat she had lent me. The light rain had ended leaving the plains muggy and warm. Folding it neatly into a square, I placed it into the saddlebag Cantra carried. I resettled myself on the large chestnut mare.

"Ready?" ArTesia asked.

"Let's go," I answered.

Drawing her grey's mare head up from its grazing to walk back toward me, I saw that she, too, had removed hers revealing her equally dark clothing beneath. Jet-black riding breeches were tucked into her tall boots. Her short-sleeved shirt exposed the brands on her arms, but not the tattoos. As opaque as her garments were, nonetheless, they revealed much of the form they hugged in a tight embrace.

She smiled knowing I was enjoying the view. "Hungry?" she asked.

"What's for dinner?" I asked.

"I thought you preferred dessert."

"That was my next question."

"We're not far now, loser cooks dinner." She goaded Tesia into a run.

I pursued her, Cantra stretching out to close the distance between us. Almost as an aside, our monochromes of sepia and ebon skimmed the plane where the jade monument's surface interfaced with its cobalt captive.

Foreseeing the effect, the cause was inevitable for Cantra refused to veer from her vector. As her hoof caught the obstacle, I gathered myself to roll into forward somersault using my momentum to clear the mare's head. I had intended to land on my feet, however the mare had jerked to avoid the stone at the last moment. I landed on my shoulder continuing in my rotation coating myself with the sodden results of the earlier precipitation.

And there in the mud sat I, Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master.

In laughter needing no translation, Cantra nickered.

ArTesia slid off her grey mare. "Are you all right?" The concern in her voice was not masked by the humour she found in my position. She held out her hand to help me up.

"I'm fine," I said waving off her solicitation of assistance even though I thought about accepting the offer and making her join me. I stood rotating my shoulder which had borne the brunt of my mass.

"Did you hurt your shoulder?" she inquired now without a trace of laughter.

"No." It was a point of view thing. I had re-injured it.

She looked at the muddy mess of my clothing. Stifling a laugh, she asked, "Did your team win, at least?" I glared at her as I futilely tried to brush the mud off, which I soon gave up seeing as it resulted in smearing it in deeper.

"You missed the spot on your nose." She ran for cover behind her mare. Grabbing her arms, I caught her. Or she let herself be caught I was quite sure. "You didn't remind me," she accused, her voice, warm and inviting.

"Remind me of what?" I knew well what she meant.

"Not to get you mad."

"I told you to be quicker than Obi-Wan," I chastised her before kissing her deeply, keeping my body clear of hers to avoid soiling her. I ached to draw her near.

"I'm not Obi-Wan," she informed me when I finally broke the embrace of our lips.

"I noticed." I kissed her again.

***

(He's filthy,) Cantra whined.

"And who's fault is that?" I blamed.

(He's the one who jumped,) she protested.

(Because you're the clumsy one who tripped,) Tesia accused.

(But he's getting me dirty,) she continued.

"We're there," I turned to Qui-Gon so that he would know that I was addressing him as much as to cut the fault-finding mare off.

Rhyphyol spring was similar to the one running underneath our Household, indeed similar to those running underneath all the Households that I know about. That marshes of wetland surrounded the basin from which the crystalline waters emanated differentiated the two, which was probably the reason the Elasium hadn't build over this one. Mgoki ithenti ting orathanaltart mgarthal shir tworathar tantass, I thought to myself.

Dismounting Tesia and rummaging through my saddlebags, I pulled out a cake of soap and a blanket. Qui-Gon asked if I was going to remove a landspeeder next. I wonder what a landspeeder is?

"Here," I commanded handing him the items. "You wash while I gather the sythorim plants." I looked at the sun now touching the eastern horizon casting a reddish glow over the landscape "We'll hang your clothing out to dry, and brush them clean in the morning. I don't think they'll dry overnight if we wash them."

By the time I returned, Qui-Gon had started a small fire. I found him wrapped in the blanked sitting by it, drying off in its warmth. His hair needed attention. He looks like a drowned brinth. Positioning myself behind him, I brought out my comb and started to slowly untangle the snarls. As I worked, the strokes through his hair lengthened as the strands were straightened. Enjoying myself, I continued long after every hair was neatly arrayed.

***

I closed my eyes. Feeling self-indulgent, her preening felt luxurious.

While I had been sitting still, the throb in my shoulder had been growing. To ease its soreness, I rotated the joint.

"You did hurt yourself," ArTesia accused.

"The fall just reintroduced me to an old injury," I admitted.

"Obi-Wan can usually work it out for me," I added. Or I could use a Jedi technique to get rid of the pain. I hoped that she would get my hint.

She did.

"I'll rub it for you," she offered. "I have some balm in my saddle bags."

Retrieving a small vial from her pack, she returned to her spot behind me.

I hesitated a moment before dropping the blanket enough to expose the offending shoulder.

Right now, I wanted to forget I was a Jedi. I wanted to be treated like any other man. I wanted to feel her warm, soft hands on my body. Wishing the scars would go away or were never there in the first place was futile. I hoped her reaction to my naked back would be different.

Holding my breath, I was heartened when I did not hear the familiar gasp the sight of my scars produced. No sound came from her. But after long moments of waiting and she had still not touched me, I sadly knew the look on her face even with my back to her. I did not need my Force sense to see in my mind her dropped jaw and wide-open eyes staring in disbelief.

Dejected, I started to pull the blanket back up when she grabbed its hem, halted its movement and then tugged gently, but firmly down. Not resisting, I let go. She let the blanket fall to completely reveal my back.

Pouring drops of the sweet-smelling oil into her hand, she massaged them deeply into my aching shoulder. Working on it slowly as she loosened the knots, I lost myself in delight as the pain abated. I allowed myself small sounds of pleasure. She persisted with her tender assaults until all soreness surrendered. Just exactly when her kneading had transformed into caresses, I did not know since she had done so leisurely by degrees. With her touches she had removed the painful ache from my shoulder and had transported it, changing it into something more pleasurable, but harder to ignore. Yet, I sat there still, wanting to be sure. I did not want her to turn me away. I wanted her to accept me. While enjoying the moment, I waited for a sign from her. What or when it would be I did not know. But, it was unmistakable when it arrived.

Her hands strayed from my back and started exploring other parts of my body.

***

Obi-Wan was already in the courtyard by the time my brothers and I reached the courtyard. Doesn't he ever sleep? The panicked arrival of the teenage boys had caused the Household to come alive with sound and light. Their mounts were spent, coats flecked with lather and panting, the three boys had ridden hard and were breathing hard themselves.

"Dunt wolves!" one of the teenagers exclaimed before I could ask the cause of the commotion. "In the north-eastern pasture. They've killed charlonis."

"How many?" I demanded.

"We saw four," another of the boys answered. "But, we saw signs of more."

"No. How many charlonis?" I clarified, irritated even though that was my next question.

"Six calves, two cows."

"Stang. How far?" Good, here comes father.

"Well into the north-eastern pasture, almost to Household Tangor's borders."

Obi-Wan turned to me. "Would Qui-Gon and ArTesia be near there?"

"No." I shook my head and my hair swayed loose for I had been sleeping only minutes before. "Rhyphyol spring is more to the east."

Father was beginning to command men to prepare for the hunt, to get themselves and their artangs ready. The courtyard became a circlestorm of activity. Men and supplies pored out of the buildings. Young sons proudly shouldered sire's weaponry. Artangs were brought out, saddled and packed.

Women emerged from the household bearing travelling provisions and paint-pots. Each hunter was attended to having their long hair combed and braided. Faces and artangs were daubed with our green and blue Household colours in patterns for good fortune. The dowduntsalla was being passed around among the females. As each woman received the fang, the hunter she was preparing, husband, son or brother, would bare his chest and she would slash it across his chest drawing blood.

As I watched my sister-in-law, ArJoppa shallowly slice open my brother, ArSeng, I turned to our father. "Who gets to go, father?" I asked knowing that he enjoyed the hunt as much as I did and I did not presume making the decision myself. One of us had to stay behind to defend and lead the Household.

"You go, son, I'll stay here," he said with a blend of pride and vicarious joy as he clasped my arm.

ArJoppa passed the fang to ArGen. I opened my shirt so my wife could cut me.

Three young women surrounded the Jedi apprentice. Not having any hair to braid, the three women were slathering his face with colour. He was patiently putting up with the excessive attention. ArGen passed the white tooth to one of the three women who received jealous looks from the other two as she stood there waiting for him to expose his chest.

The questioning look on Obi-Wan's face was answered by ArSeng. "It's for protection," he informed him. "So you won't get bitten."

Obi-Wan opened his tunic and the young woman cut across the Jedi's chest producing a thin line of crimson.

I lowered my head so ArGen could place my Tsimerdunt on it. She draped the rest of the skin across my shoulders. Turning to Obi-Wan, I said with eagerness, "Let's go!"

Denik and Thimoll were presented to us. Prepped for the hunt, both were anxious to get moving and were prancing around in anticipation. Stroking my stallion's large white blaze, I said to him, "Ready?"

(Yes, let's leave. We've stalled long enough.)

"Can't," Obi-Wan answered my question also. He looked at Thimoll and then me and finally shook his head.

Even though it was only one word I well understood what was stated.

Obi-Wan wanted to come, but was honour bound to respect the Jedi Master's wishes. With Qui-Gon absent, he was not free to presume to do as he wished. I respected Obi-Wan for that. However, I wanted Obi-Wan to join the hunt as much as Obi-Wan himself did.

My father spoke up. "Young man, go. If Master Jinn has any objections, I'll tell him myself I ordered you to go. I can't have a pack of dunt wolves in my pastures killing my herds. He and ArTesia should be back this afternoon."

"I still need his permission," Obi-Wan said.

"Fine, head out with us, swing out to Rhyphyol spring and then join up with us," I stated as swung my leg over Denik's broad back and settled into the saddle.

As he alit atop Thimoll, the Jedi apprentice looked around scanning for someone.

I caught this, did a quick search myself and was starting to give instructions for the missing person and his artang to be summoned as Obi-Wan slid off the large bay and was bounding into the Household. "I'll go get him."

Returning minutes later, the young Jedi was followed by a hurrying and still dressing ArHodijah.

***

At the point where our paths separated in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, ArDenik wished me well. "I hope that on your journey the ground is even, the food is plentiful and the water is sweet."

"May the Force be with you," I returned in kind.

As I rode off, the lanky ArHodijah yelled after me before I got out of earshot, "And hurry back!"

Into the dark, I now rode alone across the wide plains. The flat, featureless grasslands provided no landmarks. Even if Thimoll didn't know the way, with the Force as my ally, I didn't need any. Led by the Force, I rode without hesitation like one born to these lands straight toward where Qui-Gon and ArTesia were camped.

***

With the first morning light Qui-Gon roused. This time he didn't wait for my invitation.

***

Riding through the remainder of the night, I was relieved when I saw what seemed to be a pair of miniature artangs in the distance. Thimoll was nearly spent, panting heavily and starting to lather. Slowing his pace, we walked until the tiny animals increased in size until they assumed normal proportions. Now in the morning light, I saw the colour of the small blue and green tent. Qui-Gon and ArTesia were in the tent, their presence in the Force unmistakable to me.

Dismounting, I stroked Thimoll in thanks for his swift and safe efforts in delivering me here. Leaving him to happily greet the mares, I strode with purpose towards the tent. Nearing it, I slowed. One tent. I stopped. Wondering what to do made me uncomfortable. I preferred movement over idleness, however, it had to be purposeful, goal-oriented movement.

Small noises emanated from the tent. Qui-Gon and ArTesia are awake. More small noises. They are more than awake. I made a decision. I will make breakfast.

Retreating, I rummaged through their saddle bags finding the supplies I needed. Using my lightsabre, I lit a small fire on top of the remains of last night's fire.

At last emerging from the tent Qui-Gon drew a deep breath. "Smells delicious," he stated. I fancied myself a decent cook. At least It suited the two of us.

Walking over to greet me, as well as pour himself a mug of the brewing jaffa he had smelled, he found me sitting cross-legged concentrating on the small solar system I had floating in front of me and paused in his decantation.

As before, I had one larger liquid sphere as its sun surrounded by smaller ones representing planets in orbit, only now, it was highly detailed. Not only did my planetary system have moons, but the planets themselves were of different sizes, the larger ones having multiple moons and rings. One of the planets even had retrograde motion. An asteroid belt and streaking comets completed the representation.

"Wow," Qui-Gon said, impressed.

"Thanks," I replied still concentrating on the liquid but on the inside I was beaming with satisfaction. "I've been practising." No moons, indeed, I thought to myself.

"So I see."

"I've made breakfast," I said stating the obvious as I returned my jaffa solar system into my mug.

"So I see," my Master repeated as he resumed poured himself a steaming mug of the fragrant brew and sat down next to me.

Had I a preposterously painted Padawan arrive unsummoned, the state of his appearance and the reason therefore would have been immediately inquired into. Qui-Gon Jinn would wait until I revealed the purpose of my visit.

On another subject, I couldn't wait, in fact, I could hardly contain myself. I stared into the contents of my mug. "I never heard you snore while sleeping before." I took a sip and darted my eyes to catch Qui-Gon's expression.

My Master's countenance did not flicker, nonetheless, he paused the motion of his mug towards his mouth to utter, "I do not snore, Padawan," in a flat, even tone until stressing my title. Thus conveyed to me in no uncertain terms, I had overstepped my bounds in our relationship.

Qui-Gon poured another mug as ArTesia appeared out of the tent. He handed it to her as she sat down on the blanket next to him. The feeling that I had very bad timing returned to me and I busied myself serving up the results of my culinary efforts.

My Master listened in silence as I related to him about the Household's herds being attacked by the carnivores. Qui-Gon arched his eyebrows at me. I lowered my eyes. "I want to go, Master."

//I should say no.// "May the Force be with you." He gave me my leave.

***

I crouched by the remains of the charlonis carcass with ArHodijah beside me. Swarms of flying gnorin buzzed around the morsels of flesh still clinging to bone. Single-file, tiny multi-legged formix marched into its ever-deepening eye sockets, excavated a bit more and marched out. White, glistening maggots pulsed out of other orifices, either satiated or excreted out due to a lack of room on the inside. What the dunt wolves had not devoured, the smaller members of Artell's biosphere were having their final say as to the dead's disbursement.

The stench was bountiful.

I pointed out the large paw prints to ArHodijah, stood and walked the perimeter of the predator and prey's encounter. Having to relearn tracking the carnivores, he was watching and listening intently.

Obi-Wan had caught up with our hunting party and was sitting upon Thimoll waiting patiently.

I and my student climbed back on our mounts and from our newly attained height advantage, brought our macrobinoculars to our eyes and scanned the horizon toward the north-east. I dropped them to hang from my neck once again. Following my lead, the rest of the assemblage headed toward the north-east towards Tangor.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stayed put.

Not having gone more than twenty meters, I stopped and turned around toward the lone hold-out. I had substituted my Tsimerdunt for a more practical broad-brimmed hat which I pushed back to wipe my brow with my bandanna dyed in the twin hues of my Household's colours. "Is there a problem, Jedi?" I was an odd mixture of being curious and a little irked at the same time.

"You are going in the wrong direction," he sighed.

The mixture changed to being irked and a little curious.

"Enlighten me." I grabbed hold of my necklace of fang pendants to add adjectives and clauses to my simple sentence.

"Six of them over there." The Jedi apprentice nodded his head in the opposite direction, toward the south-west in the direction of the Household. "Five, no, six klicks away."

The curiosity evaporated leaving the irk. "I'll look like a fool if you're wrong." I called to my men.

***

Packed tightly into a circle, the charlonis herd was a living pinwheel with horns. The adults formed the defensive perimeter protecting the calves in the focus. It was a solid mass of animals determined to prevent a break in their protective shield of outward-facing scimitars.

Harried by their attackers, the herd drew in even closer as if they could overcome the dimensions of time and space and pack themselves yet even more tightly. However, the physics of the situation would not give and something else had to. Popping up from the centre, calves boiled to the surface to end atop their herd mates. The backward-pushing adults achieved their goal for now the two-dimensional circle had expanded into the third dimension and had taken on aspects of a sphere.

Armed with traditional throwbows and arrowlances, the men of Tangeth deemed blasters a dishonourable method of hunting. A lightsabre, although the ultimate traditional weapon to the Jedi, was judged by them to fall in the same category as the blasters - suitable for killing people only.

With my throwbow slung over my shoulder and an arrowlance held in my right hand, I raced with the hunting party in their onward rush to encounter our long-fanged predatory prey.

Snarling and snapping, the dunt wolves turned from their circling attack on the herd to defend against the line of Ar mounted on artangs.

I turned and fled.

***

It was an endless circle. The more time I spent in meditation, the fewer hours of sleep I needed; the less I slept, the more I meditated. Over the years, since my elevation from Padawan to Knight and now finally Master, my bond with the Force has become very strong. I relish the paradox that I am aware that I am unconsciously connected to it constantly. Despite its many levels of complexity and interconnectiveness, it is only when I am still and calm both in mind and body, achieving a state of simplicity in myself, can I fully join in its ebb and flow.

I know of Jedi who seclude themselves, becoming hermits, to exclusively contemplate the Force in meditation excluding all distractions in their life to better understand it. I did not approve nor did I disapprove. That was their path and I had mine. To me, the life of a Jedi was a path of life and I revelled in it. Life is short enough. I knew my purpose was to live it to the fullest.

While I and my Padawan often meditated together, deep trances were highly personal and I allowed myself to withdraw into myself only when I knew I would not be disturbed or needed. With my Padawan away hunting the danger to the Household's herds and the Household itself sleeping in the midst of the night, I immersed myself into the depths of quiet contemplation.

The calm eddies of the Force became disturbed and waves of discord were sent crashing through its waters. *Why must I wait? If I go now, I can prevent it from happening.* I followed towards the source and it became darker, foreboding and almost painful. *I see, but is there no other path?* I turned to seek out my Padawan to assure myself that my protege was not at the centre of the evil. *He's closer than I expected, he senses it, too. I understand, I must wait until he is closer.*

I broke from my trance, my mind reeling with the pain. As I yanked on my boots and grabbed my lightsabre, I knew Obi-Wan was almost upon the Household and I took the quickest route towards the stables which was leaping off the veranda.

The flames were already licking the roof by the time I had sprinted across the courtyard. Thick, acrid smoke billowed, attesting to the fact that the arsonists had not relied on the natural tinder-box state of the stables, but had used incendiary bombs. Thus primed, the dry bedding and fodder soon became fuel for the developing inferno.

I raced to the water pump and my fears were soon confirmed.

I didn't hear the approach of my Padawan over the increasing roar of the fire or the panicked whinnying of the artangs, but his righteous anger was palpable.

It was the entrances which had been the targets and it were these which burned the hottest. Surrounding ourselves with a protective barrier drawn from the Force, we burst into the nearest wing.

I tossed him his rebreather mask as I pulled mine over my face. I pointed to the left side of the wing and Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. We raced down the wing to the central aisle way as the latches of each stall slid out with a metallic clink and the doors swung open as we passed. Artangs shot out of their entrapping shelters, but few braved the flames of the wing entrance to escape the stables themselves. In terror, they milled in the temporary safety of the aisle.

We skidded to a halt at the main aisle way. Each of us threw an arm out and with a sweeping wave the stall latches shot out on each side, one after another. Reversing the motion of our arms, the doors of the stalls opened in response, releasing the artangs on this wing.

We could now hear the clamour and anguish of the Household outside as they assembled in the courtyard and a bellowing ArRegenth organised a bucket brigade.

Spinning on our heels, we sprinted down the main aisle way to the next wing. Back to back, Obi-Wan took the left wing as I flung the latches of the right. Rapid-fire, the bolts were pulled down one side and then the other. The doors followed, swinging wide like a chorus line of kicking Twi'lek dancing girls.

ArOrham, leading a small group of the Household, burst into the stables braving the flames of the main entrance. They had soaked their clothing and were covering their mouths and noses with their dampened bandannas. Some tried to herd the artangs out en mass out the side entrances, while others covered the eyes of individual artangs with blindfolds and led the screaming creatures out through the blaze.

As we worked with the Force on the next pair of wings, the sounds from the stables increased to include shrieks of pain from the farthest wings as the flames and heat started to burn and char flesh.

With our eyes burning and watering, we freed the artangs in the next section. On and on, we made our way to the far end of the stables until every door had been unfastened.

Racing back down the main aisle way, we met up with the coughing and gagging ArOrham and ArThom. We tossed our re-breathers to the two. "Here," I shouted over the din. "Use these." Re-engaging our Force shields, we burst out of the flames into the courtyard.

The bucket brigade snaked from the spring's run to the stable taking the majority of the Household that being the reason for so few rescuers in the stables. ArRegenth had decided to pool the majority of his resources into quenching the flames, but it was apparent that it wasn't sufficient. However, altering course at this point wasn't an option anymore as the flames in the stables were spreading fast now and raging in the rear section. Many were openly and loudly criticising his refusal to let them break ranks to help in leading the artangs out and a few had actually done so, thinning the tenuous water passing line.

Anxious at the sight of each freed artang, word was passed down the line as each one was identified until it reached the ears of a visibly relieved face.

ArRegenth trotted toward us. His composure was gone. Tears ran down his face in realisation that he had failed to protect his people. I put my hand on the man's shoulder. "Fear not, none are dead yet."

I turned to Obi-Wan. //Follow me. I'll need your help.//

As we raced down the line, we ignited our lightsabres for light and I searched for ArTesia's face. When its green glow cast its light over her face, the responsibility on my shoulders increased for her visage was not among the relieved.

Reaching the spring, Obi-Wan looked to me for instructions.

//Obi-Wan, I'll lift the mass. I'll need you to keep it together. Concentrate on keeping it in a sphere.// I put my hand on my partner's shoulder. //Do you think you can do it?//

//The whole spring?// Obi-Wan shook his head.

//No, let's try... let me reword that, I will lift an eighth, about the size of our rooms. Can you keep it together?//

He nodded his head in agreement.

//Ready, Padawan?//

//Yes, Master.//

I closed my eyes in concentration. Lifting up my arms, I strained in the effort and was rewarded with an immense volume of water separating itself from the rest of the spring and rising above the surface. It was sloshing unsteadily until Obi-Wan spread his arms out as if he was preparing to catch it. The mass of liquid drew together into a sphere under the guidance of my apprentice.

Walking forward, struggling under the burden of calling upon so much of the Force, beads of sweat began to form on my face and work their way down to drop from the tip of my nose and the hairs on my chin. Equally taxed, my apprentice's efforts in the finesse of liquid cohesion soon had him equally drenched.

Walking in tandem slowly across the courtyard, we carefully made our trek towards the conflagration. With the shimmering ball of water suspended between us reflecting the lights of the Household, the line of bucket passers became a queue of bucket holders. A few demoted themselves to bucket droppers.

With a few dozen meters to go, the watery orb started to quiver.

//Steady, Obi-Wan, steady,// I encouraged my Padawan.

//Faster, Master,// came the reply. //I can't hold it much longer.//

***

I heard my Master's voice inside my head speaking words of Jedi teachings. //Urgency without panic, action without thoughtlessness.//And with it came the unvoiced, calm assurances of a Jedi Master certain that his Padawan was capable of the challenge. We frequently communicated telepathically, however, it was usually formed as words in the mind. This was different. We had connected so closely that words had been done away with and I was reading Qui-Gon's pure thoughts. It heartened me that his Master was convinced of my ability and the sphere of water regained its stability.

//On three,// Qui-Gon instructed slowly. //At the entrance.//

Heaving our globe at the main entrance, a flood of water inundated a large section of the main aisle way and the two sections of the first wing extinguishing the flames there. In a hair's breadth of time, a deluge of the Household's artangs poured out.

Two Jedi backs hugged the outer wall of the building.

Panting and thoroughly soaked with sweat, I was sliding down the wall to drop into an exhausted pool of Padawan.

My Master broke out into an ever-widening grin. Letting out a howl that would have put of Wookiee to shame, he was fairly jumping up and down. "We did it! Obi-Wan, we did it!"

No, I corrected myself, he was jumping up and down.

Soon, he stopped his solo oscillations and discontinued my descent for he was now hugging me tightly causing the both of us to hop around.

Now holding my limp body out at arm's length, I could barely focus on my Master's face, but when I did, at my height, it was on Qui-Gon's wide, toothy grin centred amid the brown and grey hairs of his beard. I hope he does not get any happier.

"We did it!" Qui-Gon repeated.

I shook my head hoping to clear things up. //I thought you were sure we could do it.//

//I was.//

//Then why are you so surprised?//

//Because, Padawan, we did do it.//

I shook my head again. I was sure I would never understand Qui-Gon.

The Force was with me. ArTesia ran up to Qui-Gon and he kissed her instead.

***

Lady Luck had spit in my face.

Many of the artangs were burned, all had survived. So far.

Housed in the last wing of the stable, Linnote was one of the last freed. Large portions of his grey-haired hide had burned away exposing the oozing red flesh underneath. In shock, the gelding lay still on the water-soaked and charred bedding of its stall. His long, pink tongue lolled out from his mouth and his eyes had gone glassy.

In my mind's eye, ArLinnote assumed a similar state.

Braving the flames, I had helped ArOrham in leading artangs out to the courtyard. We had worked methodically, starting with the nearest aisles first and working our way backward. After the Jedi had doused the fire at the main entrance allowing the majority of the artangs to escape for themselves, we did a stall by stall check. Those few that had panicked to the point of shutting down, remained in their stalls that had been their haven of safety up till now.

Finding the gelding down, I started yelling for the buckets to be brought there. I'm a strong man, but pulling the artang out to the safety of the aisle was an impossible task. It was an impossible task, but I tried still.

The two Jedi did their magic again and had retrieved another, albeit much smaller, sphere of water. I was soon awash with the waters of the spring.

But the baptism had not revived Linnote. Kneeling next to the dying artang, I was about to decant my own contribution to the water puddled around me.

"He's not dead yet," the older Jedi's deep voice rich with calm assurances said.

Ignoring the slosh on the floor, the two sat down and each placed a hand on the body of Linnote and closed their eyes.

***

She handed me one of the steaming mugs. "How's ArLinnote doing?" I asked as I accepted the mug from her hands.

"She's still... out."

The late morning sun shone brightly through the stall windows of the stables illuminating the charred damage to the stable. Restricted mainly to the entrances and the back wall, the majority of the structure was undamaged. A lone white bird perched on a blackened sill chirped gaily.

I took a careful sip of the hot liquid as I watched her place a loose wisp of her hair behind her ear. "And ArThom?"

"He's been working on the pump all night. He had to take it all apart to get at the... whatever he called it, and fix it. He's putting it back together now."

"Good." I nodded my head and strands of my own hair fell across my face. Sometime during the night, the gather in my hair had worked its way loose allowing my hair its freedom.

She now dared to look at Linnote.

Millimetre by millimetre the skin of the artang had closed, healing in pink hairless patches. Hour after hour we had sat there, deep in healing trances transferring the power of the Force into the artang. Obi-Wan sat there still, eyes closed and one hand upon the flank. Not being able to put the artang itself into a trance, we had put him in an unconscious state to relieve him of his pain. This had knocked ArLinnote out also, which was just as well for her frantic worrying wouldn't have done anyone any good and we needed to concentrate.

"How's he doing?" she asked.

At another time and place, I would have teased her as to whether she meant Obi-Wan or Linnote, just as she would have neatly arranged my hair for me. "He's doing much better than he looks, " I said. "He'll live. We're almost finished. Just a couple hours more."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked over at me. His face was tired, yet satisfied. I put down my mug, rolled my shoulders and placed my hand on the artang, closing my eyes.

***

My shift over, I removed my hand from the grey and pink splotched body and rose, stretching wide.

"Here," ArTesia offered. "I brought you some jaffa."

I asked her about ArLinnote and ArThom, she answered and then asked, "Can't you hear when you're in your...?"

"Trance? No, a healing trance is too deep."

She looked over at the form of Qui-Gon sitting there with his eyes closed and his slow deep breathing and turned back to me with a questioning look on her face.

"No, he can't, either."

"Oh."

Before she had a chance to relate or ask something in confidence, I quickly changed the subject. "Has the hunting party been heard from yet?"

"Yes, a messenger arrived not too long ago, they should be here before dark. Father's waiting for ArDenik to return..."

"So they can talk some more," an older voice interposed. We turned to find ArPorijhan entering the aisle. "All your father does is talk," she continued. "Your grandfather would have had ArMarth's head swinging from the archway and the rochi would have already pecked his eyes out by now."

"Aunt ArPorijhan!"

"Don't Aunt ArPorijhan, me!" she said indignantly. "It's time someone did something, like these two here."

"Here, eat," she commanded me as she handed me one of the plates she was carrying.

"We almost had another renaming ceremony on our hands." She shifted back to her niece. "Many ceremonies."

She turned to me again. "Am I right?"

My mouth being full as I had obeyed her instructions, I tried to swallow quickly to answer, but she was addressing ArTesia again. "We would have been ruined."

ArPorijhan focused her attention back to me, I had stopped eating in case any more questions were hurled my way. "I said, eat," she insisted.

Taking a large bite, I complied.

ArPorijhan stressed to her niece, "If something isn't done now, many more are going to ask for their leave and I wouldn't blame them."

"Don't you agree?" the older woman asked me.

"If something isn't done now," a new voice intervened giving me a reprieve. "You will claim donth rella chimia and name ArDenik as the new Herd Stallion."

Emerging form the sunlight pouring down the west wing, the soot and grease covered man strode down the aisle way. Without asking whom it was intended for, he removed the other plate from ArPorijhan's hands and eating from it, turned to inspect the healing progress of Linnote.

"She can't!" ArTesia protested.

Without turning around, ArThom answered her. "Yes, she will. As the oldest female of the family, it is her responsibility to ensure that this clan has proper leadership." He twisted his head around to meet ArTesia's wide-eyed gaze. "As it will be your's someday."

ArTesia's eyes broke contact with ArThom to find her aunt's. Casting her eyes down, her aunt refused to look her niece in the face. "Aunt ArPorijhan?" she appealed softly.

ArPorijhan declined to speak which was an answer to ArTesia just the same. ArTesia broke into tears and ran to seek solace from her mare.

Her aunt muttered something about getting Qui-Gon some food and walked slowly away.

"Can you do that to me?" ArThom queried as he pointed to the prostrate body of the artang and waited until I had swallowed the remains of my meal.

"Yes, why?"

"I need to get some sleep before the hunting party returns and I don't think I'll be able to."

"Okay, but let's hurry. I don't want to leave Qui-Gon alone for long."

***

(I don't think this is a good idea.)

"I do." I cinched the saddle tight.

(We should wait for the stallion with the green fire stick to wake up.)

"No, I want to be gone by then." I pulled the bridle over her large round ears.

(ArDenik will be furious. Denik, too)

"I don't care what my brother thinks. I've got to stop this." I mounted my grey artang.

(Your father will be furious.)

"My father will be dead, if I don't do this."

***

Mom and dad told me to stay in the Household. I stood on the steps. I wished I could go into the stables. Obi-Wan was there. I bet he was doing something interesting. I was bored.

"Obi-Wan!" I said.

He was coming. ArThom was coming, too. They were both very dirty.

Obi-Wan picked me up. He put me on his shoulders. He climbed the stairs with me on his shoulders.

I remembered last night. There was a fire in the stable! I was scared for Corday. Everyone was scared for their artangs. Dad said the bad man set the fire.

Obi-Wan put out the fire. He made a big ball of water and threw it at the fire. Master Jinn helped him. Dad said Obi-Wan is a good man. I think so, too.

The ball of water Obi-Wan made had fish in it! Lots of fish. They were swimming around and everything inside the ball of water.

"Hunta, that was something last night!" I said.

"You liked that ball of water," said Obi-Wan.

I picked up Obi-Wan's braid. It is a Padawan's braid. He is Master Jinn's Padawan.

"The water was good. But the fish were even better!" I said.

"What fish?" asked Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan climbed some more stairs. We were going to ArThom's room.

"The fish swimming in the water," I said. I looked down at him. I was up high. He is tall.

We were now at ArThom's room. ArThom opened the door for Obi-Wan and me. Obi-Wan had to duck. I held on tight.

"I'll be right back," said ArThom. He was going to wash up.

Obi-Wan put me down. I looked around ArThom's room. His room is full of neat stuff! He keeps a lot of his tools and parts in here. He keeps them on shelves. He has electrowrenches, laser calipers, powerpacks and big balls of wire! *I wonder what this is?*

"Dimetris circuit board," said Obi-Wan.

ArThom came back. He was now clean. He laid down on his bed. "What do I have to do?" asked ArThom.

"Nothing. Just lie there," said Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan sat on the edge of ArThom's bed. He put his hand on ArThom's face. "Sweet dreams," said Obi-Wan.

"Will he have good dreams, Obi-Wan?" I asked.

"I don't know," said Obi-Wan.

"Sometimes I have good dreams," I said.

Obi-Wan was looking at ArThom. ArThom was asleep.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked.

"I just want to make sure it took. That he will stay sleeping," said Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan patted the side of the bed. I sat down. Obi-Wan started to braid my hair. "ArCorday, what happened to the fish?" asked Obi-Wan.

I remembered the fish. They were flopping all around. They were slippery. "My friends and me..." I said.

"My friends and I," said Obi-Wan.

"My friends and I put them back into the water," I said.

"Good boy," said Obi-Wan. He looked happy. I was happy, too. "Don't move," said Obi-Wan. He stood up. He looked on ArThom's shelves. He found a piece of string.

"Sometimes I have nightmares," I said.

Obi-Wan looked at me. He looked sad.

I was trying to see my Padawan's braid. I couldn't. "Do you have bad dreams?" I asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He bent down. He tied the string to the end of my braid. "No, I don't dream at all. But sometimes I do have visions," said Obi-Wan.

I was going to ask him what was a vision. ArThom started to make funny noises. My dad makes those noises. ArThom was snoring.

"He's asleep. Let's go," said Obi-Wan. He held my hand. "Tell me about your dreams," said Obi-Wan.

***

I slowly came out of my trance to the awareness that two pairs of eyes were watching me. Opening them, intently staring at me in the face were Tamagra and Cantra.

I closed my eyes once again and went deeply into my mind. Simultaneously, I cut the impulses from the two hemispheres across my corpus callosum and reached out with the Force to Cantra. "What is the matter?" I asked.

(ArTesia is gone,) the large chestnut mare stated.

"Gone?" I asked. "Gone where?"

(To Tangol,) Cantra clarified.

***

Exploring the Force expecting to find my Master still deep within his healing trance with Linnote, I was unprepared for the swirling maelstrom that came flooding into my mind. The Force raced and raged with images of Qui-Gon and ArTesia like a holodrama in fast forward to change and mutate into alternate renderings. I looked into my own eyes looking back at me. Pulled along, I was buffeted and tossed as the vision fluctuated and shifted. In flux, the Force was disturbed and Qui-Gon's future and mine were suddenly at a crossroads.

Reeling back with the impact of the Force, I reached out to steady myself on the small shoulders of ArCorday. ArCorday did his best, but he was soon buckling under my weight. At once, two strong arms encircled my chest to support me and drag me into one of the chairs of the great hall. "When was the last time you got some sleep?" she scolded.

"Qui-Gon..." I stammered. "Qui-Gon's in trouble."

"In trouble?" Her lined faced furrowed even deeper. "How?"

"I don't know, but it involves ArTesia."

Gathering my feet under me I made the effort to stand. I pressed my fingertips to my aching temples. "I need to get to the stables."

"ArCorday, go get my brother," ArPorijhan ordered. "I'll help him."

***

I didn't need to urge Tamagra to run any faster, she was pushing herself to her limit already. Cantra being heavy with foal suggested that Tamagra would be better able to catch up with Tesia. Not being Ar, I could only communicate with one artang at a time. This involved me cutting myself off from Cantra while at the same time reconnecting the two halves of my brain. Once this was accomplished, I had to reverse the process with Tamagra. This required preparation that had eaten up time.

First following Tesia's hoof prints in the rich soil of the orchard littered with white petals and then across the pastures, we were nearly alone.

Nearly alone, for a sentry scanning the grasslands with macrobinoculars followed my progress. I considered for a moment blanking the man's memory of my passing, but cancelled the notion as Tamagra's hoof prints could also tell a tale. Likewise, there was no sense in erasing them with the Force as I passed since it would not take the Household long to figure out where I was headed. I was sure Cantra would soon be telling all that she knew to everyone she knew.

Bending low, I draped my large frame across the mare's neck to cut wind resistance. Drawing on the Force, I transferred its strength into the mare allowing the artang to continue her rapid pace. Rhythmically pounding the earth beneath her hooves, her body stretched and gathered itself in cadence.

Now able to communicate with Tamagra, I pumped the mare for information. She was more than willing to relate what she had overheard of ArTesia, ArPorijhan and ArThom's conversation. I mused at the words donth rella chimia and ArTesia's reaction to them. Tamagra did not know what exactly it meant other than Household Tangeth would have a new Herd Stallion. It did not bode well for ArRegenth. Which is why she went to Tangol.

***

"Shavit!" I slammed my fist into the stone wall. Why does he always do this?

There in a circle of the dirt floor brushed clean of bedding was one word.

STAY.

"ArPorijhan," I said while trying to regain my calm, alternately flexing and balling my fists. "Ask one of the artangs where Master Jinn went."

A number of stalls were empty awaiting cleaning and repair, however, those that were undamaged were occupied. These did not include those of ArTesia's mares who were given their freedom with the others to roam the pastures surrounding the Household. They used this freedom to roam the stables. Cantra soon poked her long nose around the corner.

***

She entered the courtyard boldly as the last golden-pink rays of twilight dipped to be extinguished below the eastern horizon. As her mare's hooves made slow, hollow-sounding clatters across the flagstones to echo off the stone walls of the Household, I knew ArTesia expected to face the end of a blaster soon.

"Well, sister," I dripped the words with cloying sweetness. "Come to pay a visit to your brother?"

I was sitting on the steps leading to the arcade fronting my Household. *Just like at Tangeth, except our arches have far too many tails for so young a Household. Far too many.* Relaxed and at ease, like a man just sitting and watching the daily spectacle of the end of the nearest star's journey across the sky. *Relax? When can I ever relax?* Knees agape, I rested my forearms on them to hold a flagon in my hands between them. I released my hold with one hand and waved a four-fingered hand.

"Come, sister, sit," I invited speaking slowly. "Let's talk."

Hesitantly, she slid from the back of Tesia and rubbed her hand across the mare's sweat-wet coat as she walked forward.

"Don't worry," I promised. "Tesia won't be harmed." *I am sure of it.*

She sat down next to me and studied my eyes. I knew what she was looking for. "Is today... a good day?" she tentatively asked.

I nodded. "I'd offer you some, but the sun has gone down."

She sat there staring at her mare who was nervously shifting her weight from one leg to another. She thought, *Why should he listen to me? He hasn't listened to anyone else. But I have to try, my father's life depends on it.*

*So, old ArPorijhan is going to claim donth rella chimia. Well, that's good news. Serves him right, we're banned from Tangish village, indeed! Well, I've got other resources. Besides, ArDenik will be easier to deal with anyway. He's so kriffing predictable!*

"She was almost harmed last night," she said.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. *Truly, I am. I lost it.* "I lost control. It's not an excuse, it's just a fact. I can't keep it... myself... together all the time." I looked down into the flagon I was holding. *I wish I could drown myself in it.* "I shouldn't have survived. I should have died."

She touched my arm and I brushed it off. ((It's too late now. Where was your sympathy before?)) *She did care. She was the only one. She still does. It's all your fault.*

"Were any...?" I trailed off.

"No." She shook her head.

*Good*. "Good," I said. ((No? Shavit!)) *Shut up, shut up, shut up!*

"You see, sister, I was robbed." I held up my right hand to spread its four digits wide. "Robbed of my position, title, Household and then robbed of my memories, my wife. I was robbed of a future, of children of my own, of an heir of my own."

"You could have married again," she said softly.

*Who is she kidding?* I snorted. "Did you?"

She continued to watch her artang.

"Let me guess," I held one finger to my cheek and gazed off into space as if I was calculating this for the very first time. "Twenty reclaimed. Half are female. Count them out. That leaves ten. Half of those are married with children, so they stay married. Count them out. Five. Two of those are well into their old age. Three. One of them is still a child or just barely a teenager. Two." I turned to look at ArTesia. "Wide variety of choices there. You should have married me."

"You're my brother."

*That old excuse again. I could name half a dozen couples.* "Half-brother. It's not unheard of. But we're rehashing old conversations, it's the half part that father objected to, the half that wasn't his."

"That isn't true."

*Yes, it is.* ((But the good daughter couldn't disobey daddy now, could she?))

"Oh, then what reason did he give?"

She was quiet.

"That's right, he gave no reason." *Oh, ArTesia, can't you see how much I love you? So very much.* I pulled a long draught from my flagon.

"From the very start, this Household was in trouble. Underfunded, I accepted all that wished to join. And who wanted to join a Household headed by a reclaimed, glit-biting Herd Stallion?" I stared into her eyes. *So blue, so beautifully blue.* "Misfits, troublemakers." *Losers, criminals.* "Had you married me, your share of the inheritance, your herds, with mine would have started Tangol on the right foot. And you would have provided the stability I can't."

I took another drink.

"Anyway, sister." I wiped some foam from my mouth with my sleeve. "I was willing to talk to father, until I got to thinking. Why was he bringing Jedi into this? Why Jedi? And you know what I came up with?"

"No."

"He's scared. He knows my dependence on the spice. Being only half Ar, the reclaiming ceremony was only partially successful." ((He didn't use enough spice. He didn't want you to survive.)) *Shut up, shut up. Shut up! He just didn't know I needed more. How could he know?* ((Yes, he did. He just didn't want to spend the credits.)) "To stay whole and hear Marth, I continue to need the spice. He knows how expensive this is. But he wasn't willing to part with any more credits. And that was my answer. He was scared of my insight and telepathic abilities, as slight as they are."

"No, that's not it," ArTesia said. *You're the one scared of the Jedi!*

"So," I continued as if I hadn't heard her. "When I asked for our Jedi brother's share, this gave him the idea to call them in to deal with me." *The man hasn't had an original idea in two decades.* "And I'm not scared of the Jedi, just cautious."

"A man died because of your caution. ArNomedrace."

((Good, I never liked him anyway.)) "I never meant to harm anyone, especially you." *Dear, sweet, ArTesia.* "I am sorry." *So, very sorry.* "I can't control... I lose control. Those wizards with their ancient religion, make people see things that aren't there, say things that they don't want." ((Killed our brother! )) "Who wouldn't be wary of their mind tricks?"

"But they're good and kind. Selfless. They do those things to help people. And your wariness killed ArRacham, ArMistal, Mistal, ArFulah and Wrenik." She numbered them on the fingers of her left hand.

*Wrenik? No! not Wrenik! Poor ArWrenik.*

"If you can't control yourself, maybe you should step down."

"I'm entitled..."

"Your entitlement firebombed our stable!"

I lifted a hand meaning to strike her and she shrank back. Dropping the mug to grab it with my other hand, I fought it back down. "Perhaps you should go," I suggested.

"I'm here to solve the problem." She lifted her chin high. "I want to offer you my herds, my share of the inheritance."

"Father wouldn't allow that."

"Yes, he would. ArPorijhan is thinking about claiming donth rella chimia."

I jerked my head up and looked to the east. *One of the Jedi.* "Looks like you brought an uninvited guest. How rude of you."

She stared into the end of a blaster.

***

I'm walking into a trap.

The Force was leading me and I was following. *Is there no other way? No alternate path? I don't understand. Why must I do this?*

Sliding off the back of Tamagra, I led the mare into the darkened courtyard, lit only from the light streaming out of the Household at one end and the stable at the other. Surveying the huge stone and glass cantilevered edifice, I then looked in the opposite direction.

She's in the stables with many others. Something has her worried and in panic.

"Can I help you?" he offered with exaggerated solicitude. "You seem to be lost. Or looking for someone."

The Force was leading and I was following. *I can help him. Why shouldn't I? It would solve everything. I don't understand.*

I did not favour him with a reply as I dropped the mare's reins and walked toward him.

Sitting on the stairs leading to the arcade, the speaker held in his hands two hypodermic needles. I halted at the base of the steps. Gliterstrim, he smells of spice.

"No?" he asked. "Not interested in talking?"

I felt him trying to attempt to read my thoughts. I made sure he knew I was in his mind.

"I don't think you'll have much success there." Smiling, he pointed to his head. "Even I have trouble making sense of what's going on in there sometimes. Go ahead and try, but I should warn you. You're wasting precious time."

He's right about one thing, his mind is a mess. But what makes him think I can't read it? I just need time to sort it out.

ArMarth held up one of the syringes. "I should also warn you, not to try anything else until you have heard me out. The results could be quite disastrous. You see this held a powerful muscle relaxant. About now she should be having difficulty breathing, soon she will stop."

I reached out with the Force and found ArTesia physically well, however, her panic and worry had increased about Tesia.

ArMarth tossed the empty syringe away and held up the other to which was attached a square metallic device. "This one holds two drugs. The bottom one is the antidote, it counteracts the muscle relaxant."

My hands hung loosely at my sides, ready, as ArMarth stood.

The Force led and I followed. *Yes, I will wait. I will be patient. I will listen.*

"Don't Jedi," he warned. "As I said, the results could be quite disastrous. You see this device will only activate and allow the antidote out once the top drug, a poison, has been administered and an equal amount of blood has replaced it - Jedi blood, rich in midi-chlorians."

I flexed my fingers. Midi-chlorians? I don't like this.

"Come, Jedi, let's go see her before it's too late." ArMarth started slowly treading down the steps. "And you will not try going for that lightsabre of yours because unless every one of my men sees me give you the drug and withdraw your blood, if they see anything else, they will shoot her or her mare. Either way she's dead. And I don't think even you can deceive thirty men at the same time. And time is running out for Tesia."

The Force was leading and I was following. *I don't want to do this. Isn't there any other way? Yes, I see, but I don't understand!*

Across the courtyard towards the stable I followed ArMarth.

"Trying again, Jedi?" ArMarth asked. "I told you, I am quite unreadable."

Reaching the stable entrance, ArMarth outstretched his arm in invitation. "After you. I'm sure you can find the way."

Similar in layout to the stables of Tangeth, I passed several aisles of occupied stalls neat, clean and in good repair. Unlike Tangeth, I heard no warm nickers of greeting as we passed. It did not take any ability in the Force to sense the fear in the artangs as they saw ArMarth. Striding towards ArTesia in the back, the stalls were now unused and either in disrepair or half-finished, long forgotten.

Chained to a stone wall was ArTesia. Red-rimmed eyes followed my approach. "Qui-Gon!" she called out. With my name came a melange of emotions, relief at my sight, hope for her and her mare's rescue, and concern for me.

If ArTesia had revealed a card in her hand, ArMarth showed his entire hand. Snapping his head around to stare at my face, his flashed - jealousy. He considers me a rival for ArTesia!

Down and drawing laboured breaths was the mare at ArTesia's feet and trained on the two of them were blasters held by ArMarth's men from various locations. I craned my head back to view the fodder loft and the men there armed with rifle blasters. ArMarth had his two captives surrounded.

The Force led and I followed. *There are only thirty-three of them. Why can't I? I don't understand. Show me more. Yes, I will obey.*

ArMarth indicated to me with his arm toward his men. "You see not one them is aimed at you. It's all quite voluntary. Pull one of your mind tricks, someone else pulls a trigger. Refuse to be poisoned, the artang dies and then ArTesia goes insane."

Normally, I wouldn't be concerned about poisons, being able to negate any chemical, it was ArMarth's statement about Jedi blood, rich in midi-chlorians, that had me worried. This isn't making sense. Why does the Force want me to do this? It won't have any effect. Unless...

ArMarth indicated to fetters attached to the wall opposite ArTesia. "If you would, please, your lightsabre and then remove your tunic."

"No, Qui-Gon, don't." ArTesia's tear-reddened eyes were wide with fear.

"Oh, but he will," ArMarth assured her. He bent down to stroke the grey mare's side. Her breathing was becoming slower. "You said it yourself. He is compassionate and selfless."

ArTesia continued to beg me to stop as I slowly detached my lightsabre from my belt and handed it to ArMarth before removing my belt and dropping it to the floor, followed by my sash.

Before untying my tunic and shrugging out of it, I probed deeper into ArMarth's mind, searching. What is that poison?

Attaching the fetters to my own feet, I snapped them shut with a metallic clink. Placing my own arm up into the manacle on the left and closing it, I inserted my right arm into the other, now unable to shackle myself any further without assistance from the Force. ArMarth paused for a moment staring at the scars covering my chest and arms before closing the manacle on my right arm.

"Keep probing, Jedi. My brother tried, he couldn't."

With those words, ArTesia jerked her head around to look at him.

"You see being only half Ar and undergoing the renaming ceremony was quite damaging," he finished ignoring her for the moment.

Brother? I searched the stables with the Force to see if I had missed sensing one of those inside having a presence in the Force that was stronger than the others. Nothing.

"Father did mention our brother, the Jedi, didn't he?" ArMarth stroked her hair. "But of course he did. So proud of him. So ashamed of me."

"You saw our brother?" she asked.

"Yes," ArMarth nodded and then looked over at the body of the artang. "But I will make this brief. I may not be selfless, but I do pride myself in having compassion."

"I met him in Tangish. Coincidence?" He looked over at me for confirmation. "No, of course not, the Jedi do not believe in coincidence. Anyway, he had just recently made the rank of Knight." ArMarth raised an eyebrow at me.

"Master," I answered.

"Congratulations," ArMarth stated dryly. "During the trials, something happened and he lost contact with the Force, which to him, being Ar, was the same as losing your artang. The two halves of his brain fought for control and under the pressure of the testing, he hastily corrected the problem. At the time it seemed that there were no lasting complications, however, damage had been done."

"Urgency without panic, action without thoughtlessness," I stated. "He did not heed our teaching and the ramifications can be tragic."

"Yes, indeed, for by the time I saw him he was needing to call upon the Force constantly just to keep whole, to keep from going mad. He was having trouble sleeping. He said he was trying to learn to do without it. Trances or something..."

"Very few accomplish it. It is an advanced technique," I explained.

"And when he did sleep, he had nightmares," ArMarth added. "He said this frightened him for Jedi normally do not dream. Paradoxically, what frightened him the most was his own..."

"Fear," I supplied. "It leads to the dark side."

"He confided this to a search Jedi who in his compassion," he glared at ArTesia as he stressed the word. "Told him of his origins."

ArMarth now glanced around at his men still at the ready. "Brother came here determined to become whole again. Finding me, also damaged, made his determination even stronger to help himself and then me." He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. "He became whole, all right, he became one with the Force."

I shut my eyes cringing at the thought of yet another dead Jedi.

"He went through the naming ceremony and connected with an artang, he at once began to feel sane and intact. But in his selflessness, he wanted to be able to use his Force abilities once again. His midi-chlorian count was dropping and he hoped to find not only an answer, but also a cure and perhaps a reversal."

"Midi-chlorians?" ArTesia asked.

"Symbionts that live inside the cells of all living organisms. They communicate with the Force," I defined. "Jedi have unusually high concentrations."

"I helped him as much as I could, while learning as much as he could teach me," ArMarth related. "He brought blood analysers to test his blood and mine. I don't pretend to fully understand, but he had the idea that if he could cut himself off completely from the Force he could reset himself, start over from the beginning."

My face lost its composure. ArMarth smiled. "Yes, Jedi, he brought ysalamiri."

ArMarth educated his sister, "Ysalamiri are sessile creatures from Myrkr which use Force-suppressing effect to avoid predators."

"Can you now guess what the poison is, Jedi?"

The Force led. *No, no, no! I won't do it. This is asking too much of me. What purpose will this serve? I'd rather die.* And I followed. *Trust? Yes, I do, but... I see, I understand.*

I said nothing.

"Well, my brother had nothing to test his theory on except himself." ArMarth held the hypodermic up to the light staring through the golden-yellow liquid. "And in my compassion, I gave into his demands and handed him a blaster."

"So, sister, I got to thinking." He touched her cheek. "And you know what I came up with?"

She did not answer.

"This is where you're supposed to say 'no'." He cradled her chin in his hand. "Nevertheless, the answer I came up with is that outsiders are the cause of all our problems. Outsiders made me what I am. Outsiders took our brother. And now it's outsiders that are causing problems again. Our ancestors were right in coming here to isolate ourselves from contamination."

"You see, sister, the poison in here, ambrox, an extract of the ysalamiri, is the same one taken by our brother," he said. "Tell her, Jedi, what it does."

"It is a pain amplifier."

"And..."

"And when given to a Jedi it cuts them off from the Force."

The Force led...

I clenched both my fists making the veins stand out on my arms in preparation for the poison. As I did this I closed my eyes, not bracing myself for the impending injection, but instead focusing within myself to the Force in order to make one ultimate attempt to call out to Obi-Wan before I no longer could.

To the watching men of Tangol, I knew it seemed as if I had resigned myself to the fate they had chosen for me. However, my calm demeanour was not one of resignation, but one of trust, trust in the Force and trust in my Padawan to come to our rescue or perish in the attempt.

Gathering my strength, I powerfully, silently, summoned Obi-Wan with my mind. Time for one single call, and none for a reply, was all I had before the hypodermic was plunged into one of my waiting veins. Convulsing as it was emptied into my blood stream, I stiffened as the drug reached my nervous system. As my head was thrown back and my back arched, every muscle on my body strained involuntarily in reaction to the toxin and against the chains holding me captive.

...And I followed.

***

His muscles relaxed and he slowly opened his eyes. As he turned his head, I saw his pupils were now dilated wide so as no blue remained, just two large black discs. The spark of intelligence which had animated the features of his face was gone and he gazed around the room aimlessly with his unfocused eyes. I began to sob, I knew this was only the beginning.

ArMarth withdrew Qui-Gon's blood filling the syringe until a small light on the metal device flashed green. Kneeling next to Tesia, he administered the antidote to her, rubbed the area where the needle entered her neck and stood.

It was ArThimoll, the man who had provoked the trouble in Tangish village, who started to approach the Jedi Master with a perverse grin. He walked with a rolling gait that some would consider a swagger and others a defect.

"Wait, ArThimoll," cautioned my brother. "Wait, a little longer. Let's make sure the ambrox has him completely." ArThimoll reluctantly retreated a few steps. "I don't want to risk him being able to use any of his Jedi mind tricks," ArMarth explained.

My brother turned to me. "You father should have never called for their help. He should have left things as they were. We don't need any outside interference."

Composing myself as best I could, I pulled my attention from the chained, drugged Qui-Gon and faced ArMarth. He grabbed me by my chin and jerked my head around to return my face to the vacant stare of the Jedi Master. "Well, now the playing field is even again," he said. "Look. See what your father forced me to do to his precious Jedi. Your precious Jedi. This is all your father's fault. We could have settled things by ourselves."

Qui-Gon began to talk. His empty eyes staring into thin air, he would first turn his head in one direction and then another conversing with no one. I understood most of his individual words, but they were strung together as if he was speaking another language.

ArMarth deciding that Qui-Gon was completely under the influence of the drug, gave a nod to the waiting ArThimoll. Taking his cue, ArThimoll retraced his steps back to the shackled Jedi. Grinning broadly in anticipation of the Jedi's pain, the others moved closer to gain a better view. Qui-Gon let out a loud groan as ArThimoll's first blow to the Jedi's body landed with a dull thud just below his ribcage. The Tangols laughed loudly and cheered ArThimoll on.

As ArThimoll slammed his fists into the Jedi's body again and again, Qui-Gon's face took on a look of not so much as being trapped and tortured, but of confusion as to where and when the next sharp pang of pain would arrive. He moaned louder as his body became increasingly bruised and battered. Once when ArThimoll's fist connected particularly well with Qui-Gon's chest, I knew that it had broken ribs. Tears welled-up in the Jedi Master's vacant eyes and began to run down his cheeks.

I shut my eyes unable to bear witness any longer, but the sounds of the muffled thumps over the men's laughter I was unable to block out. I pictured the time when I first saw Qui-Gon, he had seemed so powerful and invincible. When his mind had entered mine, the frantic helplessness I had felt melted with his calm reassurances. His soothing strength with the Force was now gone.

The sounds of ArThimoll's fists on Qui-Gon's body tapered off and ceased.

Opening my eyes, ArThimoll stood bent over with his hands upon his knees catching his breath as sweat dripped from his face. Another of the men had taken his place, preparing to pummel the Jedi.

I knew ArMarth wanted me to, but I did so anyway - I cried out for them to stop. The laughing crowd of men were too engrossed to even bother glancing back at me. My brother bothered and stared straight into my eyes. I glared back with a consuming hatred for him.

"Stop?" he queried, incredulous. "Stop? Why, this is all your fault. Your's, your family's and his. He is receiving nothing that he does not deserve."

I broke eye contact with him looking again at Qui-Gon. His broad chest laboured with each breath. Small cuts dripped red, adding their hue to the bruises beginning to discolour his skin. He was still moaning and talking disjointedly with illusions no one else could see, trapped in his own drugged, disoriented mind. I knew he was completely disconnected from the Force and that was enough to cause the Jedi Master distress, let alone the brutal beating he was receiving enhanced by the pain-amplifying drug.

I closed my eyes once again. I wished I could soothe the Jedi Master's mind as he had done for me. *This Force of his, where is it now? Why isn't it helping him now?*

Slowly, a feeling of calm overcame me and I became aware of... something. I realised that I had made a connection with the Force. I could feel it. It was tenuous, but it was leading me, no, I was united with it... into Qui-Gon's mind.

PAIN! The sudden shock of overwhelming anguish made my mind reel back in self-protection. Shaken, I open my eyes briefly to the same savage scene unchanged, excepting that yet another tormentor was taking his turn on Qui-Gon's body.

Closing them again, I tried to remember all that I had heard about the Force from Qui-Gon. *Patience, I must have patience.* Despite the circumstances, I willed myself to be calm knowing that agitation would hinder my reconnection with the Force. *Focus. Calm. Feel*, I said to myself repeating it like a mantra. With the feeling of the presence of the Force surrounding me, I re-entered the Jedi Master's mind. This time I was prepared for the onslaught of pain and I didn't retreat.

His mind was disjointed and confused. It was a swirling chaos of colours, sounds, tastes, smells and other sensations I could not identify. Overriding everything was the pain. Trapped with itself, his mind could not understand why he was being afflicted. This, too, added to the agony. I tried to lend some comfort, any comfort to his tortured psyche as he had done for me.

I experienced what he experienced. Flashbacks to when he had been an apprentice merged with more recent memories of his own apprentice, Obi-Wan. Strange worlds and even stranger creatures appeared, changed form and disappeared. Words and phrases of alien languages could be heard. Odd tasting foods. The many different faces of people he had known flashed. Four women, one older than the other three... His family? I saw my own face.

I tried to find some small part of his brain that had retained any sanity. I was rewarded with the sensation that he was trying to grasp onto me, trying weakly to anchor himself in the drifting chaos that was his prison. I tried to help him, but he kept slipping away.

The visions changed. This scene replayed itself repeatedly. I heard a lightsabre ignite with a snap-hiss. Standing in perfect balance, holding the blue blade two-handed, high over his right shoulder as the scent of ozone tinged the air, Obi-Wan Kenobi was prepared to fight.

I was snapped back into my own self by the sound of ArMarth's voice. "Enough," he demanded of his men. "Stand back. It's my turn."

ArMarth approached Qui-Gon with a knife. When he reached the Jedi Master, he grabbed Qui-Gon's left ankle and yanked off the boot. Pulling the bare foot up, he deeply sliced open its sole completely from the ball to the heel.

Qui-Gon screamed.

ArMarth repeated the mutilation on the other foot.

As the blood poured from his feet, Qui-Gon kept screaming.

Convulsing in sobs, I was gasping for air. I started to panic.

"Doesn't look like he'll be running again soon. Does it?" he said dryly, his voice thick with meaning. He was reminding me of Qui-Gon's rescue of me from his hands; reminding me of his justification in punishing the Jedi Master. It now seemed to me to have happened so long ago.

ArMarth put down the blade and picked up Qui-Gon's lightsabre in its stead. Holding the Jedi's hand flat against the wall ArMarth took the unlit lightsabre and smashed its hilt repeatedly into the Jedi's right hand breaking bones until the appendage was bloody and swollen.

Qui-Gon's intensified screams were unbearable. They drowned out the sounds of the laughing men, the smashing of the hilt, and the racing drumbeat of my heart. His mouth opened wide as he threw back his head in a shrieking yell that would not stop.

Pleased, ArMarth strode the short distance to me. "Doesn't look like he'll be using this soon, either," ArMarth stated coldly, holding the bloody lightsabre up for me to see. His sarcastic irony was not lost on me. Qui-Gon's own weapon had been the instrument used to destroy the very hand that had once wielded it with great skill.

All the while, replaying in my mind was the last vision I had seen in Qui-Gon's mind. Obi-Wan igniting his lightsabre, its ice-blue light illuminating the darkness. I felt this had given Qui-Gon solace where I had failed. *There was something more to this. But what? What?*

I did know that actually, really seeing Obi-Wan standing there poised to fight would be our salvation. *But did he truly have to be there... or did ArMarth just have to think the other Jedi was there? Qui-Gon's whole ordeal was based on ArMarth's fear of his mind tricks.*

ArMarth intruded in on these thoughts by lighting Qui-Gon's lightsabre. *How dare he!* I thought while staring at the crystal green flame that once had been a pleasing sight in Qui-Gon's hands. Now in ArMarth's, it was malevolent.

Arcing it in the air several times, ArMarth was delighted with the way it looked and the indignation on my face. He smiled at me as he said, "Time to geld the stallion."

I gasped, "You wouldn't... you couldn't." Words failed me. He was about to do the incomprehensible.

The time was now. I had to act. Even as he was turning around to put his words into action, I blindly reached out, feeling for the Force, and connected with someone's mind. Instinctively, I knew how to make him think he heard the sound. "ArMarth!" ArThimoll alarmed. "Did you hear that?"

My brother stopped and listened. "What? What did you hear?" he demanded looking at the concern in ArThimoll's face.

Before ArThimoll could answer, I replicated the sound in another man's mind. "The other Jedi!" the man nearly whispered.

ArMarth chanced a look at Qui-Gon apparently fearing the effects of the drug had worn off. One look at the badly abused and hallucinating Jedi Master made it abundantly clear he was still deeply under the influence of the ambrox. Instructing two of his men to remain behind to guard us, ArMarth with Qui-Gon's blade still in his hand, led his men out of the stable to search out for the captive Jedi's apprentice.

***

Qui-Gon let out a feeble groan. I couldn't see much of his face as his long hair, now a tangled, blood-crusted mess covered much of it. No longer gazing around the room with those black-disc eyes, his head hung down low with his chin upon his chest. Tremors shook the frame of huge man. Buzzing gnorin crawled over his wounds only to be sent hovering with each twitch of his body. The flying insects would alight upon him once the movement ceased to resume their probing of his open sores.

Blue-black bruises covered the exposed portions of his body and I imagined the rest of his body was equally discoloured. His right hand was swollen to the point that it seemed the fluids would burst through its taut skin. If not for the evidence of the writhing cluster of gnorin below his feet, all traces of that red pool would have disappeared, absorbed by the ground leaving an unremarkable dampness.

Knowing he did not like pity for himself, nonetheless, I felt it for him. It was heart-wrenching to see the once powerful man now so helpless. I ached to be able to cut him down from his restraints and hold him. He moaned again and then murmured words and tried to lift his head, failing. *He hasn't fallen asleep as I had hoped. At least he's not screaming anymore.*

Tugging hard at my fetters for the hundredth time, the two guards, keeping the equation balanced, looked my way as my chains rattled. It was no use, there was no give. *I'm still chained as fast as Qui-Gon.* I wondered how much time had passed as I waited. *At least I had bought some time. Time waiting for what? ArMarth to return? Qui-Gon to die?*

My thoughts and eyes turned to Tesia and Tamagra, not that I could avoid it. Tesia stood in front of me her body pressed close to mine protectively. The antidote ArMarth had given her had begun to work almost immediately and she had risen to her feet not long afterward. After ArMarth had left, Tamagra had joined us and they would pace between me and Qui-Gon helpless to give us any aid. I had commanded them to return to our Household, but the stubborn mares refused to leave. Giving up trying to comfort Qui-Gon, Tesia stood her ground in front of me intending to shield me should ArMarth return and inflict on me what he had on the Jedi Master.

***

At the sound of our footsteps and voices approaching down the aisle, we were cheerfully greeted by ArKammoth and ArTharrom. Their faces brightened more at the sight of what we were carrying.

"Hey, thanks," said the younger of the two guards, as he reached for one of the trays.

"Not so fast," I warned ArKammoth who was trying to appropriate my meal. Pulling the food closer to my own body, I continued, "These are ours. Go get your own. You're being relieved.

This made him even happier.

"What's happening?" the older guard asked. "Found the other Jedi yet?"

"Nah," I said. "Nothing yet."

"Anything going on here?" my partner inquired.

"Nothing here either," ArKammoth answered. Glancing over his shoulder at ArTesia, he said, "She cries." Nodding his head toward the Jedi, he said, "He groans."

His extremely terse briefing earned laughter from all.

"What's ArMarth going to do with these two?" ArTharrom asked.

"I don't know." I shrugged my shoulders. "Go ask ArMarth."

When ArKammoth and ArTharrom had left, we checked over our charges. After making sure ArTesia was still held fast, we hesitantly walked over to the Jedi. I stared at his limp form and almost felt sorry for him. *ArMarth sure did a number on him. I wonder why ArMarth is so scared of these wizards. They bleed just like everyone else.*

My partner pointed out the scars covering his body and tracing his finger over a particularly lengthy trail stopped at a crossroads. Apparently this wasn't the first time the Jedi had been beaten. *It'll be the last time.*

Prodding the Jedi with the barrel of his blaster, my partner sent up a swarm of gnorin that I swatted away from my face. The Jedi stirred. Lifting his head and blankly staring out at neither of us, he groaned, "Master?"

Laughing, my partner agreed with relief tinged with sarcasm, "That's right. I'm your master."

I chuckled at the grim joke at the Jedi's expense. "He's still doped up. Let's eat."

***

Despite what my eyes told me I was convinced that this Jedi was somehow the cause of the sounds my men had heard. We had thoroughly searched for the other Jedi and found no one. *I'm sure I sensed nothing. Could it be that it wasn't only our ears being deceived, but also our eyes?*

I scrutinised the trembling body of the Jedi. *Well, Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master, if I can't solve the problem, I will just eliminate it.*

Activating the Jedi's lightsabre that was still in my hands, I closed in on the Jedi.

I froze. This time I heard it.

ArTesia stopped her pleading and looked around. She heard it too. My men began to murmur anxiously. "Ignore it," I ordered.

***

Emerging from the shadows, I knew one thing for certain. *Obi-Wan Kenobi is impossible to ignore.* My list of certainties rapidly expanded like a sun gone nova.

Striking out at the nearest men, I cut the two down, decapitating them before they could react. I was sure that one of their heads rolled several metres before stopping to stare in fixed horror for eternity.

Bisecting a third, the man watched frozen as I thrust my lightsabre between his legs and cut from his groin upward, exiting through his right shoulder. I was positive his child siring days were over.

Raising my arm out, I flung a man firing as he chanced a dive for better cover, Force-impelling him backward. I was confident he was a corpse before the resistance of the stone wall stopped the momentum of his head impacting into it.

As the others took cover, I was soon a whirlwind of motion, deflecting blaster fire from all angles. Felled by his own redirected bolt, I was convinced the last sensation of smell the man experienced was the aroma of his own internal organs cooking inside his body.

The hail of energy bolts began to wane as their ranks thinned.

Emboldened by the power of my Master's lightsabre in his hands, ArMarth confronted me. Certain he hadn't the slightest idea how to use it, I relieved him of it. In one swift movement, I transferred the grasp of my own lightsabre to one hand and raised the other palm out. Using the Force, I jolted my Master's lightsabre from ArMarth's hands. Extinguished, the hilt raked the floor sending up a small dirt shower.

A cry of anguish momentarily diverted my attention. ArMarth and his few remaining men took advantage of their opportunity and fled. I let them go.

I rushed to my Master. Using my lightsabre, I cut Qui-Gon from his chains and lowered his body carefully to the floor sending a swarm of insects to flight. Despite the myriad of abuses to his body, it was his face that captured my attention. Touching my hand to the wet cheek of Qui-Gon, I stared in wonder at my damp fingertips. That the great Jedi Master had been weeping troubled me to my very core. Cradling his head in my arms, I whispered, "Master?" There was no response.

ArTesia called to me and I quickly freed her.

With ArTesia, I hastened back to Qui-Gon's side. The insects had resettled. Their bodies crawled over his chest, arms and face. Closing my eyes, they disappeared, flung far away. Crouching down, I now took the time to look my Master over. The physical damage was obvious, but those eyes...

"What happened?" I demanded of her.

"They drugged him."

"With what?!" I nearly yelled.

"Ambrox poison," she said slowly as if she expected me to recognise the name and be shocked.

I furrowed my brow. "Never heard of it."

She seemed to dread saying the words as if saying what it was made it more real, more terrible than the ordeal she had just witnessed. When she did, she said the words hesitantly, speaking of Qui-Gon in the third person. "It's... It's a pain-amplifier... and when given to Jedi... it cuts them off from the Force."

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. It was too horrendous to contemplate. *And why hadn't I heard of this ambrox poison before?*

I cautiously tested the edges of Qui-Gon's mind with my own. I was prepared for the onslaught of pain, but its intensity almost engulfed me. Drawing strongly on the Force, I fought the fear that was building in me and I explored deeper. Over the years, I had grown to know Qui-Gon's mind intimately and the unfamiliar terrain I found there made it seem as if I had entered a stranger's mind - a mad man's mind.

I withdrew sensing there was nothing I could do for my Master, not here, not now. As I had been probing my Master's mind, ArTesia had started tending to his wounds, bandaging Qui-Gon's blood-crusted feet with strips ripped his discarded tunic.

"We need to get out of here." I straightened up. "They'll be back."

Stepping over the body of the man with broiled viscera, I retrieved Qui-Gon's lightsabre from where it had skidded to a stop. Turning it over in my hand, the tang of blood reached my nose. *Old man, why did you go without me? Why did you let them do this to you?* Taking up the hem of my tunic, I wiped off Qui-Gon's dried blood, busying myself with the task to prevent me from giving into tears. I attached it to my belt to hang next to my own weapon.

Returning to Qui-Gon, I started to arrange his body for transport. As I lifted his right arm to place next to his body, Qui-Gon groaned in spite of my tender treatment.

I strained to keep under control. "Is there anything they didn't mangle?" I said with more than an edge to my voice. The tone of my voice was not accusing her of being at fault for Qui-Gon's injuries, but of repulsion for his torturers. Nevertheless, I sensed she felt responsible and guilty.

"At least he's still all in one piece," she said softly as she busied herself by gathering Qui-Gon's discarded clothing into a bundle tied with his belt.

I wondered what ArTesia meant by that as she tied it to Tesia's saddle. *No, I don't want know what she is alluding to.*

"Did Thimoll bring you?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I'll send Tamagra to go get him."

"He won't enter the stable. I'll bring Qui-Gon out to him."

"Can you lift him by yourself? I can help," she offered as she started to bend down at his feet.

I waved her off. "I don't think you can help." Summoning the aid of the Force, I outstretched my arms and Qui-Gon's body rose from the ground to hover a metre in the air.

Negotiating my Master out of the stable, ArTesia followed with the two mares. Thimoll neighed a quiet greeting and then continued with some nickers as I scanned for any sign of ArMarth or his men. "Thimoll says they went into the Household," ArTesia translated.

As we exited through one of the wings off the main aisle way, I knew they could see us, not until we started riding off. "We had better hurry," I told her.

"What about Qui-Gon?" She took a moment to brush back the tangled hair out of Qui-Gon's eyes. "Are you going to be able to carry him like that?"

As ArTesia mounted her grey mare, I climbed atop Thimoll. "I have to, I'm afraid he won't be able to take the jostling."

"The artangs have another gait that is smooth, it's tiring on them and a bit slower. I can ask..."

"No, we need speed. Lots of it."

***

I ran as fast as I could. I wanted to get away from Tangol as badly as ArTesia and Obi-Wan did. It held nothing but bad memories for me. ArThimoll had changed over the years since our move there.

We had arrived from Tanganass with excitement and high hopes. I was sad to leave my friends, but ArThimoll assured me I would make new ones and our prospects at Tangol were as wide open as the plains themselves. He said we would have a fresh start, a new beginning. ArMarth welcomed us with open arms and at the beginning I liked our new Herd Stallion.

The work was hard and I had to swallow my pride and help pull sleds and such, but soon the Household was beginning to shape up. Orchards and wood lots were planted as well as gardens and tallgrain fields. The Household was cleaned of rubble, broken windows repaired, and equipment installed including a generator. The stables were fixed with new stalls added as people and their artangs arrived.

With the new arrivals came a woman that ArThimoll liked and much to his delight, liked him back. They got married. It looked like ArThimoll was right, all we needed was a new opportunity. I was happy as he was. At Tanganass I had been too young, but now at Tangol I enjoyed the company of many mares and soon sired many foals.

For a few years everything was fine, then things slowly began to sour. Repairs were delayed or made shoddily. ArThimoll explained to me that credits were short. ArMarth started to change. One day he would be fine, the next he would be in a rage. Household Tangeth seemed to be the blame.

Marth changed also. And I did, too - I was gelded. ArThimoll said he was sorry, but it had to be done. He said it was for my benefit. Easy for him to say.

Conditions rapidly deteriorated and the charlonis herd started to be sold off at Tangish. We then spent much time hunting jarren and wild charlonis.

One day one of these Jedi arrived with ArMarth from Tangish. ArMarth's mood improved and it looked like things were back to normal until the Jedi died. His artang was very upset, he said the Jedi killed himself. I have heard of the Ar doing that when their artang died, but never before. I hoped this wasn't something these Jedi do, I like this Obi-Wan.

Things got really bad after that. We started to take charlonis from Household Tangeth. I didn't like it, but ArThimoll told me we had to and I had little choice. Tangeth's Herd Stallion began to visit our Household more often, but nothing improved.

That's when ArThimoll started to change and when he killed ArMistal and Mistal, I knew I had to leave. It is an almost unheard of thing to do, and it troubled me to do so, but I couldn't stay with an artang killer.

When Obi-Wan and I had reached Tangol, I had sensed ArThimoll inside the stable and I was afraid, but after Obi-Wan had entered, I heard ArThimoll cry out in pain and I felt him die. It saddened me for once he had been a good man and I had been proud of him, but I was relieved. I was free of him.

Now half way to Tangeth we had to stop again. The body of the other Jedi rested on the ground as the mares and I caught our breath. It was unnerving having him float in the air next to me, but I could go faster this way. Not as fast as I did getting to Tangol though, I seemed to almost fly through the air and hadn't gotten tired. It felt strange, but wonderful. I think Obi-Wan had something to do with it. I wondered why he wasn't doing it again.

ArTesia said Obi-Wan was tired, he hadn't slept since the night we were warned of the dunt wolves and even then that had only been a few hours. From what ArTesia said Obi-Wan didn't like having to put Qui-Gon down on the ground, but he had to. It was either that or drop him. So, we rested for a while until Obi-Wan was able to float Qui-Gon again and off we ran.

***

My nephew, ArDenik, often says if it's not one thing, it's another. I say things happen all at once.

"Aunt ArPorijhan?" Obi-Wan asked as my niece hugged me tightly. "Has ArDenik returned with the hunting party yet?"

"Not long ago, just before dawn. He's with his wife. ArGen just went into labour." *When did I become his aunt?*

The boy was a mess. It was obvious he had not slept in what? Three days? Nor had he bathed in that many either, he still had his hunting paint on or what was left of it smeared all over as well as the soot from the fire and other assorted grime. A charlonis smelled better than he did.

ArTesia pulled herself a few centimetres away from me. "She's fine," I told her as I stroked her hair. "ArJoppa and ArLosset are with her. Don't worry, she'll understand."

"ArPorijhan," the boy said as he rummaged through the Jedi Master's travelling bag. "You've got to convince ArRegenth and ArDenik not to go to Tangol."

"Why?" I demanded. "Look what they did to him."

He pulled something out of a box and attached the device to Qui-Gon's arm. "Qui-Gon let them do this to him." He inserted something into it and staring at it, flicked it with his finger.

I thought ArTesia was going to hit the roof. "Let? He didn't let them do anything. ArMarth had us trapped. There were blasters everywhere. He didn't let them do anything. Qui-Gon had no choice."

I knew the boy's nerves were as frazzled as ArTesia's, but he managed to stay calm. "ArTesia," he said as he prepared a hypodermic. "Qui-Gon is not just my Master. He is a Jedi Master. The Council does not just give that title to anyone. If he wanted, the entire stable would have come crashing down leaving nothing but him, you and the mares standing."

She started crying again. "Why didn't he then?"

"It was something the Force wanted. Why, that I don't know." He cleaned off a section of Qui-Gon's arm and inserted the needle.

"ArPorijhan, please, convince ArRegenth and ArDenik not to seek revenge. Tell them not to do anything until Qui-Gon is... better." He pulled a chair over to the edge of Qui-Gon's bed and sat down.

"I'll try," I promised him. *If Qui-Gon gets better.*

"Please, ArPorijhan, don't try, do." He leaned over, put a hand on the Jedi Master's leg, closed his eyes and said nothing more for a long time.

***

"You shouldn't have climbed the stairs," she chastised me as she put down her sewing and stood.

I waved her concern off. "I took them slow."

She frowned at me. *She looks just like her aunt when she does that.*

"How is your young man doing, ArTesia?" I asked, lifting the blanket to examine his injuries.

"He seems to be improving," ArTesia stated. "He was in much worse shape before."

"From the looks of those scars, it looks like he's had quite a few of those 'befores'," I commented as I put the blanket down. "What is that thing on his arm?"

"I don't know," she said. "Obi-Wan put it on him."

I waved my hand in front of the young boy's face.

"Neither of them have moved all day," ArTesia explained.

I made my way over to the seat ArTesia had vacated and with her help, I eased myself into it. "I just returned from the stables," I said. "I had a most disturbing talk with Thimoll."

She peered at my face with her brows knit.

"Apparently, your brother, the Jedi, went through finolkar, the naming ceremony," I stated.

"So?" she asked still looking confused.

"Don't you know The Epic?" I questioned her.

"Yes, of course, everybody has to memorise it," she answered. "Mjoli artang isanti bhui Ar..."

"No, no," I cut her off. "Not the abbreviated version. The complete story, the one told at the winter's solstice."

"I've heard it many times," she admitted, hanging her head low. "But I'm afraid I never took the time to memorise it."

"Not many people do," I stated. *Or pay attention to it.*

"What does it have to do with my brother going through the naming ceremony?" ArTesia asked.

"Everything." I pushed myself out of the chair with ArTesia's help. "When Master Jinn wakes up or comes to or whatever it is they do, tell him he needs to talk to me, first, before he talks to your father or ArDenik."

"I will, ArPindar, I promise."

"Good girl," I said as I waved my hand in front of Obi-Wan's blank face again. *Weirdest thing I've ever seen.*

***

I snapped awake at the sound. *I must have dozed off. Where am I?* I sat up and looked around as the thunder rumbled away. *Qui-Gon's room. Huh? Qui-Gon!* I breathed a sigh of relief. He was still in his bed, still breathing.

"Awake, Obi-Wan?" I twisted around in my chair to look at her as she put down her sewing and walked over to my side.

I rubbed my face with my hand, listening to the drumming of the rain on the roof. "How long?" I inquired.

"Two and a half days, you only fell asleep last night." She put her hand on my shoulder and looked over at Qui-Gon as a flash illuminated the room.

He was deep in a healing trance. *A healing trance of his own. Good. That means that ambrox has worn off.*

"He woke up as soon as you fell asleep, we managed to sit him up and get some broth down him and he asked for some tea. And he was worried about you."

"Did you find...?" I looked around and my eyes were captured by water falling from the sky and running down in small waterfalls from the level above.

"He told us he had some in his travelling bag," she said pointing to it.

"He usually carries some with him."

The conflict in the atmosphere exploded in sound again and rolled off. I stood and stretched. *Oh, that feels good.* I picked up my Master's right hand. *Looks good.*

When we had returned from Tangol, Qui-Gon was one step away from being one with the Force. Even though they had long ago stopped bleeding, the slices to the soles of his feet had caused him to lose a considerable amount of blood and he was close to being in shock. I had pulled a rehydrator from our first-aid kit and started the saline solution dripping. I also knew with all the open wounds on his body and those... insects crawling all over him the risk of infection would be high so I administered the hypo to prevent it. I didn't need anything else to deal with in the healing trance, I would have enough to do.

Four of his ribs on the right side were broken as well as three on the left. He had internal bleeding, his kidneys sustaining the worst damage. His right hand was a mess, most of the bones had been crushed. And naturally, his nose was broken, again. *They always go for that nose.*

I don't recall ever having to rely on the Force as much as I had in the past few days. I was exhausted, but I had to continue for Qui-Gon's sake. Drawing on the Force to strengthen me, I fell into a trance and started healing the internal bleeding first. That was the most dangerous, but thankfully the easiest to remedy.

I had then divided my attention between his ribs and his hand, working on knitting the former together as I set the bones in his hand, alternating between the two. His hand was by far the most complicated. I had to keep referring to his left as a template to reassemble his right. It had been extremely slow going.

The last thing I remembered was starting the healing on his feet which is when I must have fallen asleep.

I picked up the blanket to check on his feet. They were cleanly bandaged. In fact, he was clean all over with all the other various cuts and scrapes tended to. He looked in good shape. *You were nearly dead, old man, and you were worried about me?* Still holding the blanket up, I looked at ArTesia.

"While Aunt ArPorijhan and I were washing him, it didn't seem like his feet were healing like the rest of him was so we treated them with ointment and bandaged them."

"Good," I said as I looked myself over. "Thanks." *Uh, oh. I'm clean and in different clothes.*

"I'm not guilty there. ArHodijah helped her with you when I fell asleep." ArTesia snickered. "She said to tell you." ArTesia dropped her voice a bit to imitate her Aunt's. "You smelled worse than a wet charlonis and you don't have anything I haven't seen before."

I think I turned three shades of red. "Uh, ArRegenth and ArDenik?"

"No, I don't think she washed them."

I took a deep breath and forced it out.

"I know what you mean. Aunt ArPorijhan managed to convince the both of them to cool their heels. They've stayed here, besides they've been preoccupied."

"ArGen?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm an aunt again. A girl. In fact, two babies. Cantra had hers, a colt," ArTesia said proudly. "They had the naming ceremony already. ArSimpalla and Simpalla."

I smiled and bowed my head. "Congratulations."

She beamed and hugged me and then kissed me. "Thank you."

"Thank you for what?" I was confused.

She looked confused. "For saving Qui-Gon, of course. I thought I was going to lose him."

*Uh, oh.*

"ArDenik would like to see you as soon as you're able, he's got something for you."

"I think I'm able." I stretched wide again and then straightened the blanket over Qui-Gon. "I need to move. Where is he?"

"He's in the stable, helping with the repairs." She sat back down and resumed her sewing as the room was cast into brilliance momentarily. "ArCorday can't wait to see you either."

***

"Hold it still, ArHodijah. Quit playing with that fang." *She's beautiful.*

"Hey, ArDenik, hurry up, we need that piece over here!"

"It's coming!" I lased through the board and handed it to ArHodijah. "Here, bring this to my brother." *A girl! I've got a daughter!*

ArHodijah trotted back with the same piece in one hand and fingering his necklace with the other. "ArOrham says it's cut wrong."

"ArOrham, what's the matter?!" I yelled back over the pelting of the rain and the whining of the machinery. *I'm a father!* "You said four-five degrees!"

"Fifty-five! Fifty-five!" my brother hollered back as lightning lit up the stable. "Would you stop daydreaming and pay attention!"

The thunder introduced the new arrival. "Obi-Wan! Glad you see you up and about. How's Master Jinn?"

"Fine. He's healing nicely." He miserably shook the wetness off his coat.

"Good, good. Just a minute." I lased through a new board. "Here ArHodijah, bring this one to my brother."

"ArCorday?!" I yelled toward the back over the noise. "Obi-Wan's here!"

I retrieved another board. "I would like to apologise." I straightened up. "When you left the hunt, I thought you were scared, a coward. I can't begin to thank you for what you did for us."

ArCorday bounded up.

"I've got something for you," I announced. I removed the necklace with the single fang from ArCorday's neck and motioned for Obi-Wan to turn around.

"Normally, they are awarded only to those credited with the kill. But to honour you, I've credited you with this kill."

Obi-Wan turned around with the fang hanging at his throat. *Looks good. He won't be able to keep the women away now. Not that he needs any help.*

"Isn't there a ceremony of some sort?" Obi-Wan asked looking, I think, disappointed.

"We already had it. ArCorday stood in for you." The little boy beamed.

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"No, that's fine." Obi-Wan shook his head. "Thanks, ArCorday."

"ArDenik! Are there any more fasteners up there?!" ArOrham bellowed.

"Coming!" I reached over for the duraplast box and handed it to ArCorday.

As ArCorday skipped away, I measured the new board. *ArSimpalla, what a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl!* "ArHodijah, where are you?!" I yelled.

"Helping ArOrham! Need me?!" he yelled back.

"Never mind! Stay there!" I motioned for Obi-Wan to hold the board.

"How is ArHodijah doing?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Great. Made his first kill. Just have to keep him away from the teenage girls now." I lased through the board and straightened up. "By the way, we took the time to follow the tracks, took a better part of a day. The dunt wolves had circled wide. If it hadn't been for you, they may have reached the Household before we got to them. We found another lagging behind, wounded, gored by the horns of a charlonis."

***

*There, almost done, just one finishing touch.*

Poised on one foot, Obi-Wan stood still with his arms drawn up in the air. Exploding into motion, he turned gracefully, light as a feather to assume another stance. *He looks like a ptimaph hunting in the reeds.* Stepping across the room in series of movements, each fluid and deliberate, he changed once more, mercurially taking on the aspect of some fierce beast and struck out.

His warrior's dance had me transfixed. Each movement he made was precise and exacting. With instantaneous transitions, slow and smooth motions were interspersed with explosive kicks or hand thrusts.

Turning, he progressed towards me. His face was intense and his concentration complete as he stared straight at me. Unexpectedly, he struck out at me and even though I jerked my head back reflexively, I found myself staring at his fingertips barely brushing my face.

Obi-Wan broke into a impish grin and bowed.

"I need your help. Can you spell Qui-Gon's name for me?"

He looked at the datapad in my hand. "What are you going to do? Write him a letter?" he asked as he reached for it.

"What's a letter?" I asked as he started to tap the keys.

He lifted his eyes up to me. "Never mind."

"Qui-Gon Jinn," I specified.

He shook his head and said, "No." He tapped one more key and handed it back to me. "You do it." Staring at the keyboard with me, Obi-Wan spelled Qui-Gon's name for me. "Qek, usk, isk," he listed. "Now a hyphen." When I couldn't find it, he pointed it out to me. "Good, grek, no, upper case, osk, nern," he continued. "Now, Jinn. Jenth, isk, nern and nern again. Well done."

***

My sense of hearing returned first. Strumming an instrument, he was softly singing. The ditty was the Corellian Jedi's tune, but the words were an alternate version by the Temple Jedi giving the real reasons the emerald-robed Jedi rarely left the Corellian system. I smiled.

By the time I opened my eyes, Obi-Wan had put the instrument down and was leaning over in the chair he was sitting in and smiling back at me.

//How do you feel, Master?//

//Fine, Padawan//, I thought as I sat up and ran my hand through my hair.

//I would like some tea though.//

//I'll be right back//, my apprentice promised as he headed for the door.

Eyeing a neatly folded pile of clothing on the table, I assumed those were mine. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I gingerly tested my feet on the floor. Healed for the most part, they were still tender. Shunting the pain away with the Force, I rose and walked to the table.

The clothes weren't my old rough-spun ones, but new. I ran my hand over the soft, luxurious cloth. Placing the cloak aside, I lifted the tunic up, intending to don the garment. There, finely embroidered in green and blue, was my full name. I smiled again. *She probably doesn't know about initials.*

Obi-Wan returned carrying a pot of hot water and two cups as I was pulling on my boots. //On the veranda?// Obi-Wan asked as the tea steeped.

//You did a fine job//, I praised him as I flexed my right hand once we had seated ourselves outside. It was late afternoon and sounds of construction drifted from the stable.

//You taught me well//, he thought to me as he gazed across the courtyard.

//You will need many skills, the Force will ask much of you someday.//

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. //I know, I hope I will be ready.//

//You will, my Padawan, you will//, I assured him.

//Is that the reason you let them do that to you?// He searched my face.

//In part, the Force showed me you needed to extend yourself, test your limits, and you did very well. I am proud of you. //

He grimaced at the word proud and shot out of his seat, pacing back and forth. "I wanted to kill all of them for what they did to you!"

//Wanted, but didn't,// I reminded him.

He rested his arms on the railing, purposefully not looking at me. "Revenge would have made me feel better."

I said nothing, we both knew this was not true.

//Does the want part ever go away?//

//No.// I paused sipping my tea. //At least, it hasn't for me, Padawan.//

He turned around leaning backwards against the railing, looking at his feet. //Sometimes the Force asks too much of us. You were like a... hole in the Force. I could barely find you. And then when I did...// He brought his face up. //What was it like?//he inquired.

//Great despair. Had you not been there for me... I understand why he took his own life. To be one with the Force would have been preferable to being cut off from it. I was afraid. So alone, so very alone.//

//I'm sorry,// he sympathised.

From anyone one else, I wouldn't have accepted their pity. I stood and put my hand on my friend's shoulder. //Even though I could not sense the Force, it was there for me through you. This was a lesson in trust I had to learn also.//

Obi-Wan's face brightened and then dropped again. //Master, why hadn't I heard of this ambrox before?//

//You would have once you were elevated to Knight as preparation for becoming a Master. The Council has deemed it not suitable as part of a Padawan's training. As you could well understand, we eliminated all knowledge of it outside the order.//

//Why weren't these ysalamiri eliminated, also?//

//Destroy an entire species and the ecosystem to which it belongs?//I chastised him.

//I understand, Master,// Obi-Wan admitted.

//I hope so, Padawan. Now, about ArMarth...//

//It's a moot point now.//

//How so, Padawan?//

//Good news, Master.// Obi-Wan smiled brightly.

//Oh? I could use some.//

//It seems as if the problems here are solved. ArMarth granted everyone in his Household their leave and he's gone as well. Some of the sentries reported talking to families leaving and ArRegenth sent a scout party to Tangol. It's empty, they're all gone.//

//Interesting.// I was suspicious. //Too easy, it's never this easy.//

//Easy?// my Padawan countered. //After what you just went through?//

//I still don't know, my young Padawan, but what I was going to say was at least we now have all sides to the story.// I ran my hand over my beard. //I thought that was what the Force wanted.//

Obi-Wan put down his cup and left the veranda and returned with my electroshaver.

//Don't overdo it,// I instructed him as I sat still. //Just a trim.//

As he started to neaten my beard, Obi-Wan frowned. //I think there's one more point of view. ArTesia told me to tell you, ArPindar insisted you talk to him as soon as you came out of your trance, before you talked to ArRegenth or ArDenik.//

I said nothing to Obi-Wan while thinking about ArTesia.

//Obi-Wan, that necklace?//

//Just until we leave, Master. Please?// he implored me. //They deem it to be a great honour.//

//I'm sure your neck will be honoured when it is severed from your head by it,// I countered in a tone of voice that allowed grudging permission to his request.

//Master?// he questioned looking worried. //We are leaving aren't we?//

***

He found me in my garden. We nodded to each other as he bent down to help me with my weeding. It was some time before I spoke, but the garden is pleasant and he was in no more of a hurry than I was. "What I was going to tell you is a moot point now."

He smiled. "Obi-Wan said the same thing."

"He's a fine young man that boy of yours. You should be proud of him." Tired and aching, I finished working for the time being and I slowly made my way to a bench placed there for my sole benefit. He helped me sit down and joined me.

"He's not my son."

"Oh?" I said. "The colt has the colours of his stallion."

He laughed easily. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"As it was meant, young man, as it was meant."

"It's been a long time since anyone called me that," he stated stroking his beard shot through with grey.

"From my perspective you are. Speaking of which, I am curious what you were going to do."

"I think you know that ArRegenth is right," he stated. "He generously gave ArMarth his inheritance early to start his Household and owes him nothing more. ArMarth could have stayed here."

I nodded in agreement.

"And ArDenik is sound in his thinking," he added. "ArMarth should pay for his crimes."

I nodded again.

"And ArMarth is correct also," he continued. "He received a fair portion of ArRegenth's wealth, but not a just one. His brothers and sister will receive the same amount, but they stay here, not shouldering an ambitious undertaking."

I nodded my head once more and looked him in the face. "You though, what side did you take?"

"None, I could have helped ArMarth, but the Force led me in another direction." He spread his hands out in a helpless fashion. "I thought perhaps the time wasn't right."

"I thought so," I revealed. "And this help? ArMarth would no longer need Marth?" The Jedi Master nodded. "Then he would no longer be Ar or subject to our laws, this too would have made what I was going to say pointless.

The Jedi then canted his head towards me and furrowed his brow.

"Oh, ho!" I laughed and slapped my knee. "That would solve your problem now, wouldn't it?" The young man smiled.

We sat for awhile enjoying each other's silent company.

"And your point of view?" the young man asked me.

"Mine?" I looked across the garden. "Mine is tradition. The law of our people. But as I said, it no longer matters." I sighed. "The Jedi undergoing the finolkar, the naming ceremony, became Ar and truly ArRegenth's son." The Jedi looked at me curiously and I waved it off. "Minor point in our ways, since everyone undergoes the finolkar, except those few taken by the search Jedi. But in this instance, it becomes a major point since he killed himself."

"How so?" the Jedi Master inquired.

"His family, ArRegenth's, is considered..." I looked into the air searching for the right word. "Contaminated. ArRegenth can no longer be Herd Stallion nor can his sons. Leadership reverts back to the closest male relative on the female side which was his wife and therefore..."

"Therefore," Qui-Gon broke in. "ArMarth is rightfully Herd Stallion of this Household."

"Yes, but as I said, it seems it doesn't seem to matter now, and since I know no one really pays attention to the saga, I will keep silent and the problems here, it seems, have gone away."

The young man did not seem convinced and to tell the truth, I wasn't either.

***

I paced in my room full of restless energy. I had tried to meditate, but it was no use. I needed to move. Leaving my room, I sought out ArTesia.

Starting down the stairs, I intended to cross the great hall. As I did I was made aware that a recreation room was occupied. The noise emanating from it was loud and irritating.

Stopping short of entering the room, I saw the younger adult members of the household were gathered there, lounging about listening to several of the group playing instruments. I recognised the traditional instruments, others, I hadn't seen before and it was these that were making the din that offended my ears. They were not acoustic, but powered by an energy supply. The music was a blend of the traditional tunes of the people set to a loud, driving beat.

Most were paired up with a member of the opposite sex, holding each other or resting a head on a chest or a shoulder. Almost all were tapping a foot or nodding their head keeping time with the incessant rhythm.

Obi-Wan had his back to me with his feet propped up tapping one foot. He was enjoying the music. *Sometimes, there is no accounting for Obi-Wan's taste.*

I noticed that my Padawan had a small circle of three young women surrounding him. One of them had undone his braid and was carefully re-braiding it. Obi-Wan did not look like he minded.

Overall it was a handsome group. All had long hair as was the custom and wearing variations of the native riding gear in the household's colours. The ubiquitous scarves were variously displayed, tied to belt loops, a wrist or holding hair back.

There was not a blaster in sight, they being safe in their own Household. The only weapon in sight was Obi-Wan's lightsabre. This saddened me only momentarily. *Obi-Wan lives a hard life.*

Ever since he left the Temple to become my Padawan, he is rarely with others his own age. *These are good people.* It gladdened my heart to see my apprentice accepted by the group. *All too often a Jedi is an outsider.*

Not being able to stand the din any longer, I attempted to pass without my apprentice seeing me. I should have known better. Obi-Wan is too strong with the Force and noticed my presence.

Obi-Wan dropped his feet. He started to rise even though the girl had not finished with his braid. I motioned with my hands for him to sit back down, that I didn't need him. I continued on my way noticing out of the corner of my eye, Obi-Wan slowly returned his feet to their previous position.

Headed towards ArTesia's room, I was greeted by ArLosset, ArTesia's sister-in-law. "Looking for ArTesia?" she asked, knowing the answer. "She's in the stables."

"Thank you," I answered. "I should have known."

I turned around and went back down. I thought to myself that I could have located ArTesia in the Force, but that would have defeated my whole purpose. I needed to move, to stretch my legs. *I've been inactive for too long.* Exiting the arcade, I forgot to duck and one of the artang tails brushed my head.

It was that time of day when the sun has already set, but night had not fallen yet. The western sky was already black while the eastern remained a shade of blue. As I crossed the stone-flagged courtyard, I breathed deeply. The orchards were in bloom and the air was sweet and fragrant.

I entered the stables and was greeted with a chorus of whinnies and nickers. The stables had many scents, unlike the orchard's single aroma: the musky artangs, the clean bedding, the sweet fodder and grain all swirled together to make for a pleasant, earthy smell. From the sounds I heard most had just finished eating their grain and were starting on their hay. I looked left and then right. A few of the Household were still tending to their artangs.

I continued down the main passageway to the next aisle. A roan head popped up and took a step toward me, still munching on a mouthful. I gently rubbed its silky muzzle and then scratched him behind his ears, lost in thought.

***

Normally, I'm not taken by surprise, but I was busily talking with ArLinnote across the aisle about her upcoming marriage to ArThom. Tesia noticed him first and whinnied a greeting. I turned around quickly, happily ambushed. His huge frame nearly filling the opening, Qui-Gon was leaning his forearms on the half-door of Tesia's stall.

"I didn't hear you," I stated smiling broadly.

"I'll make some noise next time."

"Good," I remarked.

His face became serious. "ArTesia, we need to talk."

***

The next morning I rode off to Tangish village.

***

I had finished feeding Corday and my other artangs.

I was happy. Mom told me the bad man had gone away. I hoped this wouldn't mean that Obi-Wan was going away. That would make me sad.

I looked up. I heard something. I heard a ship. I wondered if it was coming to take Obi-Wan away.

I was scratching Corday around her horns. She likes that.

Corday said she had been talking to Thimoll. Thimoll told her about what had happened at Tangol. I wished I had been there to see Obi-Wan fight the bad men.

Thimoll also told her that the Jedi, ArRegenth's son, killed himself. This made me sad. Then I remembered something. I remembered the saga. I ran to tell ArRegenth.

***

"I'm finished, Master." My Padawan stood up.

I was disoriented.

"What are you finished with, Obi-Wan?"

I looked at his face. *He's crying. Why?*

"I can't stay, Master." He started walking away from me.

"Obi-Wan?"

Opening the door, he paused. "Because you told me to."

The door closed behind him and he was gone. And I was alone.

I looked around me. The room looked familiar, the same as it had always been during our stay on Artell. Rising from the floor where I was sitting, I saw my travelling bag resting on my bed. *I've packed up. When?*

Turning around to see what else was different in the room, I noticed my datapad on the table. A green light was blinking indicating a waiting message.

I walked over, put down the blue pearl earrings I had in my hand and picked it up.

Qui-Gon,

Upon entering my last report to the council, I entrusted the datacard with our Padawan. He will not give it to you.

Each experience we have changes us. It may sound trite, but it is true. Some make us a little bit older, sadder and hopefully, wiser. I made a decision that you will have to live with. It might seem arrogant of me to do so, however, if I hadn't, you wouldn't be. I would have remained - older, sadder... and wiser.

You will have to trust me, just as I am about to trust our Padawan. We have always trusted him with our life and now I am trusting him to erase me and in doing so, recreate you. As we have little tolerance for pity, when I began to feel it for myself, I knew that I had to do this.

I could have asked our Padawan to blank out all memories of her, however, until our return from Tangish village they had been pleasant ones and I wanted those to remain.

Guided by the Force, I bent my will to it and this time it protected our family. It doesn't matter how or what happened, just that it did. You will not have to live with that memory. I would tell you where the new one is, but you will find it on your own. Whether or not you will have this one removed I will leave up to you.

May the Force be with you.
Qui-Gon.

***

It was a small blue and green planet frothed with white clouds.

Although it was one of almost a dozen girdling an average yellow star, it was the only one teeming with life. Small ice caps frosted each of its two poles which were only slightly inclined from being perpendicular to its orbital plane. Upon its axis it rotated from east to west causing its sun to appear to rise in the west and set in the east. Its orbit around its star was elliptical although nearly circular there being a only a few million kilometres difference between its aphelion and perihelion. Currently, the small planet was nearing its summer solstice position in its revolution.

Several large continents were set in wide oceans. The oceans knew nothing of tides since there was no moon in orbit around the small world to tug at them. The majority of the land was in the temperate zones and thus the planet had few arctic tundras or tropical jungles. Mountain ranges were rare and well-eroded giving testament to the fact that the planet's tectonic forces were almost non-existent. With few mountain ranges to wring the rain from the moisture-laden ocean breezes, there were few windward rainforests or leeward deserts. Artell was a planet of seemingly endless grasslands.

The small planet seldom had off-world visitors since neither cities nor spaceports dotted its surface. Therefore, there was no one to witness the sudden appearance of a red Republic space cruiser out of hyperdrive and its slow decent into the clouds over the largest of the world's several continents.

The ship landed in a sea of grass. As far and as wide as the eye could see and even beyond that was flat and even. The grassland was a deep green broken only by a scant salting of white flowers. It was the type of green with a hint of blue. The green of summer and lush growth. From horizon to horizon the unending grass extended unbroken and undulating in the wind. Summer had begun and the air was warm. A southern wind swept across the plains causing the two figures that strode across a grey stone floor to drop the hoods of their brown cloaks from their heads.

Underneath their voluminous robes they were also similarly clad in hues of brown. Trousers were tucked into tall, calf-length boots. Wide-sleeved, loose-fitting layered tunics were secured by sashes about their waists, which in turn were topped with belts attached with a variety of pouches and a lightsabre.

The taller of the two was a large man, impressive in size and strength. Revealed by the hood was a handsome mature face adorned with a full beard trimmed short. His long flowing hair, already threaded with grey, was kept in check by a gather in the back. He looked out with sad blue eyes.

The second of the two, although shorter in stature, was well-muscled on his more compact frame. He was energetic and agile. His clean-shaven face was youthful and unlined having only just entered adulthood. His hair was close-cropped excepting one lone braid behind his right ear.

As they strode through the arcade with their faces sombre, the older of the two wondered to himself if he would ever again sit by a camp fire underneath a dark sky lit by countless stars. And if he did, and if he was asked, could he tell the tale of a small blue and green planet with endless grasslands... and of the woman he had loved.

Thus preoccupied, the tall man did not notice the long grey tail newly added to the arch. Walking underneath it, the tail brushed his head dislodging a few of its hairs across his. Added to those already there, they made him look all the more grey.

They were Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master and Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan learner.

The End