~ PROLOGUE ~

The shift in the gladiators' mood roused K'avin Tetara from his light meditative trance. Rising to his feet, he edged over to the bars of his prison cell, oblivious to the chains shackling his wrists and feet. He peered out into the dimly lit gladiator dungeons, noticing that every occupant was doing the same thing, as the guards entered the dungeons with their burden.

"R'urn!" roared a gladiator suddenly in anguish. T'juro, K'avin noted silently. And his scream revealed to one and all what had happened to the gladiators' unspoken leader.

A muttering grew among the gladiators as the guards brought their burden to the centre of the dungeons - the horrible news travelling faster than wildfire.

K'avin watched as the lead guard strode briskly into the centre of the dungeons, commanding his underlings to lay their burden on the none-too-clean medical table. Outside, he heard the heavy iron door clung nosily open again.

"Kai!" he heard T'juro called in desperation. "Thanks the gods you are here! Help R'urn. He's been hurt badly. Help him!"

The gladiators' diminutive caretaker skidded to a halt in the centre of this horrible place. As always, her physical presence caused him to inhale sharply, for her singular beauty was like a cleansing light in this dreary place. She was pale, slender and delicate, like a fragile art of crystal and starlight. She wore a rough-spun tunic of grey-white, sleeveless vest and breeches of faded brown. A slave collar encircled her graceful neck. Her crimson-gold hair hung nearly to her hips in a long thick braid, the dangling end tucked into her belt.

She darted to the gladiator's side, preparing to save the profusely bleeding man. The guards fell back, letting the caretaker do her job. The gladiators watched in anxious silence, as Kai fought to save the life of the man whom they depended upon for strength in this despairing place.

Kai, her gentle face set in concentration, deftly removed R'urn's ruined armour. Her luminous green eyes widened when she saw the distinctive gash across the dark belly. The wound was deep and the blood was turning black. Her concern increased. His liver had been punctured. Her skills and basic medical tools would not be enough to save his life.

Stanching the wound with thick wads of cloth, she gestured to the lead guard. "She said to send him to the infirmary now," K'avin promptly translated for her, knowing full well that the guards did not know the sign language.

"I would have to get the Governor-Regent's approval," replied the lead guard.

Kai gestured again. "He will die quickly if he does not receive medical help," K'avin translated. He watched her flashing hand signs, then continued, "or you would rather explain to the Governor-Regent how his most prized gladiator die because you did not take action fast enough?"

The lead guard swallowed, turning pale. Incurring the Governor-Regent's wrath was not a healthy thing to do. "You!" He pointed to one of his underlings. "Run to the infirmary, tell him we have an injured coming in. Kai, bind him up for the trip. I'll - "

"You will do no such thing," a new voice cut in from the shadows. Everyone jumped; K'avin's gaze snapped to the shadows, surprised that someone had managed to enter the dungeons within his knowing. The lead guard bristled. Here he was the commander; nobody contradict his order. And certainly no one ranking lower than him entered the dungeons without his permission first.

"Who are you? How dare you - " His voice died when the shadowed warrior emerged from the shadows. K'avin studied the shadowed warrior with expert eyes. He was medium build, shorter than most of the gladiators in the dungeons and topping Kai by a head. He was swathed in a heavy black cloak that hid his body and face from view. An air of violence and danger clung to him like a black cloud.

Everyone cringed back as the shadowed warrior stopped at the medical table and glanced down at R'urn fighting to stay alive. The dying gladiator merely glared up at him. "You lost in the arena, Set." R'urn grounded out between painful gasps for breath.

"Once only," Set replied. He inclined his head slightly. "You fought well."

"Anything to keep you from taking Kai away." The news came as a shock to everyone. K'avin looked sharply at Kai, as did everyone else, but her back was facing him. She was staring very hard at Set. From his angle, K'avin could not see her expression.

"She will come with me." Set transferred his gaze from the dying gladiator to Kai. "Sooner or later." R'urn started to say something but a spasm of agony had him curled up on the medical table. As though his pain broke the spell, Kai reached for her medical kit. A gauntlet hand clamped heavily over her thin wrist, stopping her movement.

"No." Kai twisted her wrist to free her limb, but Set's grip was steel. "It was a battle to the death. The Governor-Regent and I will not let you save his life." If Kai was capable of feeling outrage, K'avin was sure this was it. She stared at Set, jaws firmly set and a frown between her brows. Her eyes were cold. Somehow, with minimum expression, she was able to convey her rage and grief.

"You're a slave. The order came from the Governor-Regent." Set finally released her wrist. "You know what that means." Kai gestured. Apparently Set knew the Universal sign language. He nodded and stepped away from the medical table. "You'll have your final moment with him." Set paused before melting back into the shadows. "I trust you'll keep her from saving his life, Commander."

"As you wish, my lord." The lead guard replied hastily. "Report to me when he's dead." Then Set was gone, sweeping out the dungeons.

"Kai," R'urn whispered. The caretaker was immediately by his side, twining one hand into his bloodied grasp. Using whatever little strength he had left, R'urn tugged her down until he could touch her cheek with his lips. "Escape. In two days' time." Kai started to shake her head. "It's a bet the Governor-Regent made with his business associate. Three champions defending you against Set. If we lose two out of three, you're his. I'm the first and the best and I cannot defeat him. You have to flee. Promise me, Kai, promise me."

Staring at R'urn, fierce determination burning in his rapidly dulling eyes, Kai finally nodded.

R'urn slumped back against the medical table, contented. "Thank you," his last whisper exhaled like a breath.

Kai stared at the peaceful face of R'urn for a long moment, then slowly, very slowly, she reached out and closed his unseeing eyes.

"NO!" The scream came from T'juro, the cell-mate of R'urn. "No!"

_______________________________________

~ ONE ~

For the third time, Obi-Wan Kenobi failed to achieve the calm focused state so necessary to a Jedi. He let out a sigh of frustration, raking a hand through his short spiky hair. He needed to meditate, to calm himself and refocus, but he couldn't. Turmoil churned within him, putting him on the edge.

His pale blue gaze drifted about the sparse and cramped room he was given. His chest tightened as recent memories rushed into his mind unbidden... * * * It was nearly six months since they returned from Theomoral. They had stayed on Coruscant for the first week, allowing Qui-Gon plenty of time to fully recover from his injuries. When he was well again, the Jedi Council sent them on three more missions - all critical situations that needed a Jedi's presence.

Qui-Gon had resolved each situation to the best of both parties' benefits, and the Council was pleased. Returning to Coruscant after their third and most difficult mission as of yet, both Master and Padawan were barely able to take a day's respite before the Jedi Council summoned them for their new mission.

"There is a darkness spreading on Karageon," Jedi Master Mace Windu began without preamble. "We receive word that the Governor-Regent D'maar has been abusing the power of his office."

"And with President G'karel in a mysterious coma, there is no one to resist his take over."

Qui-Gon wasn't surprised. He long had kept an eye on Karageon ever since the news of G'karel's strange illness spread through the galaxy. Karageon was a member of the Republican Senate, yet far away enough from the Republic's influence. President G'karel was fortunately a fair and upright leader, but he couldn't say the same for D'maar.

Jedi Master Saesee Tiin picked up where Mace left off. "We received a plea from the President's son, G'uran, asking the Jedi to aid him to remove D'maar from power. We agreed and sent one of our own to resolve the situation."

Here's where the plot thickens, Obi-Wan thought. They were never given the easy assignments.

"He failed to report in three days ago and we are concerned," Mace said in his straightforward manner. He leaned forward, a grave expression on his face. "His name is K'avin Tetara."

A jolt of recognition shot through Obi-Wan. K'avin Tetara! His Master's very first Padawan whose successful ascension to Knighthood earned Qui-Gon the level of Master. Obi-Wan darted a quick glance at his master.

Qui-Gon's face remained serene as always, but the brief spike of worry he felt through their bond gave away his emotions. "When do we leave?" Qui-Gon simply asked.

Mace handed a memory chip to him. "As soon as you are ready. This chip contains all the data we have on Karageon. Seek out G'uran and his underground resistance. I believe they will be your only allies on Karageon...And Qui-Gon, may I add that your investigation has to be very discreet."

Qui-Gon nodded as he accepted the memory chip, knowing 'discreet' was just another word for subterfuge. He was well aware of the need to be 'discreet'. Though the Jedi did not participate in the politics of the Senate, they all knew of the ongoing political tussle.

Karageon was a member of the faction that opposed Valorum's faction. If they found out the Jedi were intervening, it could spell further turmoil for an already unstable political situation. Sometimes, he truly hated politics.

"Go swiftly, you must." Yoda spoke up suddenly. "Or cover Karageon, darkness will."

Obi-Wan didn't like the sound of that. Qui-Gon bowed low in acknowledgement.

"Go now," Mace said. "And may the Force be with you."

* * *

"Master, I'm curious. How was K'avin like when he was your Padawan?"

Qui-Gon looked up from his portable viewscreen, a thoughtful expression on his face. They were in their quarters, preparing for their upcoming mission. While Qui-Gon was reviewing their plan one last time, his apprentice was packing their meagre travel bags. Jedi travel light, some lighter than most. Now Obi-Wan paused in his task, seated on the edge of his sleep-coach, looking expectedly at his Master.

"He was a difficult Padawan learner, in the beginning. Very intelligent and quick on his feet. More reckless and hot-headed than you are now." Qui-Gon eyed his apprentice sternly. "Which doesn't mean there isn't room for you to improve." Obi-Win only grinned. "But he calmed somewhat as he grew up, and learnt to temper his recklessness with restraint. He was an excellent pupil. When he earned the right to be a Jedi Knight, it was the proudest day of my life." Qui-Gon studied his present Padawan with paternal fondness and pride. "You show great promise, Obi-Wan. When the day you are to be conferred your Knighthood comes, I will have reason to be proud again."

Obi-Wan didn't say anything. His pleased expression said it all.

* * *

Ah Master, Obi-Wan thought worriedly. Where are you now?

* * *

It was no hardship sneaking onto the planet. Qui-Gon will never admit it, but both he and his apprentice were adept at sneaking on and off a world.

In the capital city Serat, they posed as farmers from the outskirts. They dressed the part, concealed their lightsabers deep within their clothes, and enforced the 'farmer' image with the Force. The guards at the gate were checking the identification of each and every person entering the capital city. But entering Serat proved to be equally easy.

All Qui-Gon did was to Force-manipulate the guards' weak minds. Once inside, they wandered about the city ostensibly sightseeing, but in reality, searching for the underground resistance led by G'uran. For several days, they searched but to no avail.

One morning, they decided to split up. Qui-Gon to take the west side of Serat and Obi-Wan the east side. The young Padawan roamed the slums on the east side of Serat, searching for the resistance cell. By midday he was getting impatient. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand, and still their investigation could not get underway!

//Obi-Wan,// came his Master's mental voice.

//Yes, Master?//

//I've found a member of the underground resistance. However, we are arrested by the city guards.// A surge of alarm rose within Obi-Wan. //No, don't come after us.// Qui-Gon warned quickly. //I need you to contact the underground resistance and help them. Here was where E'mura was taking me to before we were intercepted and here is their signal code.//

Obi-Wan didn't resist as Qui-Gon let the information flowed into his mind. //What about you, Master?//

//I will attempt to resolve the situation from the inside. And hopefully, I will be able to find K'avin while I am at it.//

//Very well, Master.//

//May the Force go with you, Padawan.//

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed. He did find the underground resistance, identified himself to them and met up with G'uran. The President's son was relieved that the Jedi had not abandoned his cause, though he was concerned about Qui-Gon's arrest. He had a plan to overthrow D'maar which hinged upon having a Jedi with them. With K'avin arrested, the plan was in jeopardy. But now, they could proceed as usual. They have given him a room, to rest and prepare.

That left him about five hours to himself. He was quietly mediating when a sharp spike of pain and distress echoed through the bond he shared with his Master. When the pain cleared, his Master's presence was muted and no matter how much he called, he received no reply. That had put him on the edge for the past one hour.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and forcibly cleared his mind. If he was going to be in any shape to help G'uran and his Master, he had better start behaving like a Jedi. And that means he better regain his calm and balance soon.

* * *

"Master Jinn?" a worried voice whispered softly. "I'm conscious, E'mura."

Qui-Gon murmured quietly. "Just trying to get my bearing."

"You could do better with your eyes open, if I may say." There was dry humour in her voice.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes and shifted to a sitting position. "Sometimes, sight hinders what I can glean from my other senses." He looked around at the cage they were locked inside. It was small and cramped, barely big enough for two people. It was an even tighter squeeze when one of the prisoners was his size. All around them were similar cages, all occupied with despairing people.

"This wasn't quite what I was expecting," he remarked. He had thought to wait until they were inside the presidential grounds and effect a quiet escape with the Force. Once free, he planned to disguise themselves as part of the presidential staff and work about 'resolving the situation' from within.

E'mura's sudden resistance took everyone off guard, including Qui-Gon himself. Before he could do anything, the guards had stunned them, and apparently threw them down here to let something else finish their work for them.

"It's going to be worse," E'mura replied grimly. "We're going to be forced to participate in the 'Survival of the Fittest'."

"What's that?"

"It's an arena sport," E'mura almost spat the words out. "Poorly armed, defenceless people who are thrown into prison, for one reason or the other, forced to fight against trained gladiators to the death in front of cheering nobles. If you are still standing after ten Standard minutes, you are accepted as a slave-gladiator."

"I guess the survival rate is minimal at most time."

"You can say that again. Listen, you can hear the crowd warming up."

Qui-Gon knew what she meant.

The background rumble of several hundreds people gathering had grown over the past five minutes while he feigned unconsciousness.

E'mura shook her head. "I thought we were going to be executed for sure. The Governor-Regent has standing orders that any rebels arrested were to be interrogated and then publicly executed."

"It's my doing,." Qui-Gon admitted. "When they arrested us, I persuaded them that we were nothing more than simple thieves."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No." A faint smirk graced Qui-Gon's lips. "I'm sure D'maar would not bother with a couple of simple thieves." He grew sombre again. "Actually, I was planning to use our arrest as a way to get us onto the presidential grounds. Your reckless action threw my plan out of the window."

E'mura shrugged. "What can I say? I'm always one for surprises. We're not out of the woods yet, Master Jinn. We could still get killed out there in the arena."

"Qui-Gon."

"What?"

"Call me Qui-Gon. I would rather no one knows who I really am. And no, we're not going to get killed out there."

They fell silent as the arena guards marched into the dungeons, shouting, snapping their whips and opening the cages. The prisoners scrambled to get out of their cages, suddenly more afraid of the arena guards than their impeding death.

Qui-Gon and E'mura silently joined the line forming in the centre of the dungeons. They were shackled together by the feet to prevent anyone from bolting, and the arena guards marched them to the slaughter field.

___________________

~ TWO ~

K'avin tensed when he felt the familiar presence getting closer to his position. He remained seated in his cell, knowing an odd move from him would draw attention to himself. But he kept his gaze fixed on the heavy iron door, anticipating his arrival.

He didn't have to wait long.

Two guards entered. Two prisoners shuffled wearily between them, one woman and the other man. They were all manacled. K'avin frowned when he spotted the woman. She was a cause for concern. Not only did he recognise her, she was the sole female in an otherwise all-male dungeons. He didn't think E'mura was going to have an easy time here. He recognised the man as well and he couldn't help a smile at seeing him.

To his Jedi senses, the man was projecting an image of a farmer forced to fight for his life and was beaten severely in the process. K'avin wasn't fooled. It was merely a mental image projected to hide his real identity.

What he really saw was a Jedi Master, tall and strong, with a warrior's grace and a serene dignity all his own. He was a familiar face he hadn't seen in a long while. The rest of the gladiators watched in contemptuous silence as the new arrivals were led to their respective cells.

E'mura was thrown none too gently into an empty cell. K'avin heaved a silent sigh of relief. At least she would be safe on her own behind those bars. But Qui-Gon...

The Jedi Master made a subtle gesture. "You will put me with Tetara," Qui-Gon murmured.

"I will put you with Tetara," echoed the guard.

"Tetara! You have company!" K'avin simply nodded, watching silently as Qui-Gon was shoved into his cell. They looked at each other for a long moment, while the guards locked the cell again and exited the dungeons.

"That cot is mine," K'avin said gruffly, nodding to his left.

//Hello, my former master. What brings you here?//

"You don't lie on it, you don't go anywhere near it."

Qui-Gon moved to take the cot to the right.

//You, my friend.//

Sitting down, he raised his manacled arms.

"Are we always shackled?"

//I see you are unhurt.//

"All the time. They only take it off when we are about to fight or train."

//Lucky me. How did they catch you?//

//Long story. And you?//

"I guess I should count myself lucky to be alive at all." K'avin snorted.

"Don't start counting your blessing yet."

//There was a raid of one of the underground cells. The concussion grenade took me out before I could react.//

"What's your name?" Qui-Gon asked.

//K'avin, is there anywhere I can hide my lightsaber?//

"K'avin Tetara."

//There's a loose brick beneath your cot. I'll cover you.//

"Qui-Gon." The Jedi Master felt the Force swirling about him as K'avin gently turned everyone's attention away from them and blinded them to Qui-Gon's action.

The Jedi Master swiftly bent down, removed the loose brick and placed his lightsaber beside the other one already nestled within. Replacing the brick, he resumed his seat on his cot.

"You're an Offworlder," K'avin stated as he released his control over the minds of the occupants in the dungeons.

"Just came to Karageon to visit my brother on his farm," Qui-Gon replied easily. "Next thing I knew I was arrested for disturbing the peace when I was so clearly sleeping in my room."

From his cell, T'juro snorted. "I'm not surprised. Things have been getting from bad to worse ever since D'maar became regent."

"I didn't know things were this bad, or I would never have come." T'juro eyed the 'farmer'. "Not bad for a farmer if you made it through the 'Survival of the Fittest'."

E'mura snorted from her cell, holding on to her bruised ribs. "He didn't do much. He spent the whole time hiding behind me." K'avin's brows shot up.

//You didn't...//

//No, I didn't. Just a story we hatched to keep our covers intact, my friend.//

"Then he better start doing something, or he's going to die his first time out in the arena." T'juro glanced at E'mura. "You too as well." They fell silent again as the dungeon door clung open once more and there came the sounds of clomping boots.

Qui-Gon listened with both his ears and mind.

One guard. The lone guard came into view, barking, "Get up, fresh meat! It's time to meet your caretaker!" The cell Qui-Gon was sharing with K'avin was the first to be opened.

As the caretaker stepped into the cell, it took all of Qui-Gon's self-control to mask his reaction to her presence. Pale, gentle face. Delicate build. The crimson-gold hair he remembered so well hanging over a shoulder to her hip in a thick braid. The wide luminous green eyes now staring at him in puzzlement.

Somehow Qui-Gon got the impression that she wasn't exactly seeing the image he was projecting with the Force. "Qui-Gon, meet Kai." K'avin introduced, sensing the Jedi Master's shock even though outwardly he remained calm. "Our caretaker."

Kai finally tore her gaze away from Qui-Gon to look at K'avin, a question in her eyes. He simply stared back, not understanding. Kai turned back to Qui-Gon again, slowly rummaging through her medical kit, all the while staring at him with a slight frown.

This time, it was Qui-Gon's turn to increase his exertion on the Force. He wrapped the Force around them, maintaining the illusion that she was treating his wounds. He didn't bother including K'avin in the illusion.

One can't fool a brother Jedi. "I see you're uncertain if I'm truly injured or not," Qui-Gon said. He withdrew his influence from Kai, allowing her to see his true self. He was satisfied to see her eyes widening in mild shock. "Play along. Regard me as the other person you see, but I have no need for medical attention."

Nodding, she silently went about her work. Qui-Gon used the Force to influence her perception again, and noted once again the strange resistance rebuffing his efforts. This, plus the oddly still and passive nature of her presence in the Force, only served to reconfirm what he already knew. Kai was Firegold.

K'avin was deeply intrigued by the entire by-play. To everyone else, Kai would appear to be treating Qui-Gon's non-existing wounds, but he saw the reality and sensed the strange tension between them. He eyed his former master questioningly, but Qui-Gon was too engrossed in keeping the illusion together and staring at Kai to notice his curious gaze.

For Qui-Gon, he couldn't help staring at the vision standing before him, barely reaching his chest and not daring to lift her eyes to him. There was only one thought running through his head, over and over again. How did she survive a hundred thousand feet fall to death?

* * *

D'maar stepped forward to the open crate and lifted a blast-rifle. With practised hands, he went through the motions of priming it, testing its quality. Turning around suddenly, he opened fired.

The envoy or her assistant didn't even blink as the vase beside her shattered into pieces.

"Excellent weapon," D'maar said, pleased with the blast-rifle and secretly impressed with the envoy's calm. He placed the weapon back into the crate. "One hundred pieces as a sample, Governor-Regent." The envoy began calmly. "If you are satisfied with the performance of the weapons, five hundred thousand will be shipped to you for the first payment. Another five hundred thousand for the second payment, and so forth."

"And this is the payment for the sample," D'maar said, gesturing to the two containers. The envoy rose from her chair, her maroon cape rippling behind her.

First she checked the containers. The agreed cash payment was all there. "The first batch will be delivered today next week," said the envoy at last. D'maar smiled pleasantly. "It's always a pleasure to do business with your company."

"Thank you. I'll convey your compliments to my boss." The envoy cocked her head slightly. "As for our little bet, who will be your champion for tomorrow's fight?"

"I was thinking of T'juro. He's the best, excluding R'urn."

"Your gladiators are fine warriors, Governor-Regent. But they will be no match for Set. Why don't you give in gracefully?"

D'maar shrugged. "What can I say? I have my eyes on the girl for quite some time already. I'm not going to give her up without a fight."

The envoy regarded him with an amused look, as though she knew of a secret that he don't. "Very commendable of you. Very well then. I shall see you at dinner tonight at eight, is that right?"

"Indeed." She turned away, beckoning to Set to carry the containers. He stepped forward quietly, lifting the two heavy containers of payment without any apparent efforts at all.

D'maar was suitably impressed. It had taken two of his guards, plus a hover-trolley to transport the containers.

D'maar watched them go, his mind already plotting to double-cross his business associate. Outside, Set followed the envoy silently until he was certain they were out of earshot. "I do not trust him."

"Neither do I. But we're here on business."

The envoy slowed, lowering her voice as well. "Keep alert, my pet."

"I am always alert."

* * *

//You know Kai, don't you?// K'avin asked during their dinner in the centre of the dungeons. Throughout dinner, the Jedi Knight had observed Qui-Gon's interest in the redhead caretaker serving them their meal. Kai, for her part, kept stealing glances in Qui-Gon's direction.

//From a previous mission,// Qui-Gon replied. //How long had she been here?//

//She wouldn't tell. But T'juro said she had been their caretaker for nearly five months. Before that, your guess is as good as mine.// K'avin chewed his meat thoughtfully.

//She's an enigma. We know nothing about her, not even her name. It was R'urn who named her Kai.//

//That's not a Karageonian name.//

//It's our native word for 'silence'. Very appropriate for her. Now care to tell me why you're interested in her?//

In their silent fashion, Qui-Gon told him about the mission to Theomoral.

//Six months ago. So she hasn't been on Karageon for long.// K'avin mused. //But there's more you're not telling me.//

//What are you talking about?//

K'avin studied his former master. Qui-Gon had been a much younger man when he took K'avin as his Padawan. He was already a hard man to read even then as a Jedi Knight. As a Master now, Qui-Gon was completely unfathomable, giving nothing away. But still, K'avin knew him well enough. //There's something between you and Kai. And I'm not talking about your previous meeting.//

Qui-Gon arched a brow. //You must be mistaken.//

//About you? Hardly. Remember, I once was your Padawan.//

"T'juro," the guard barked, catching everyone's attention. "Better sleep well tonight. You'll be fighting Lord Set tomorrow." An eager bloodthirsty look lighted T'juro's face.

No one save the Jedi saw Kai looking away with a troubled expression.

//This has to stop,// K'avin declared once they were back in their cell.

//Calm yourself. You won't do anyone any good by going off half-cocked.//

//But -//

//Patience, K'avin. That is a Jedi's strongest asset.//

//Yes, Master.//

His reply made K'avin smile sheepishly. //Thanks, I think.//

//You're welcomed, K'avin.// Qui-Gon replied serenely as he lied down on his cot. Centring himself, Qui-Gon sent out the call through the bond he shared with his Padawan.

//Obi-Wan?//

//Master!// Came the loudly relieved thought. //Where are you now?//

//In the gladiator dungeons with K'avin. And you?//

//I'm with G'uran's underground resistance. We're planning to sneak into the presidential estates in a few hours' time. He planned to revive his father. With the President awake and his loyal Guards with him, G'uran thinks there's shouldn't be a problem to overthrow D'maar.//

//It was said that none of Karageon's healers could revive President G'karel from his coma.//

//But none of the healers were Jedi,// Obi-Wan pointed out.

//D'maar did not ask for a Jedi healer at all. G'uran hopes a Jedi could reverse his father's coma.//

//And that's where you come in. Sound plan, but risky. At all cost, you must awaken the President. For only him could order his loyal Presidential Guard help in the revolt.//

//I hope I'm up to it.//

//Obi-Wan,// Qui-Gon chastised gently, //your healing skills are almost on par with mine.//

Obi-Wan grinned, ignoring the odd looks the rebels were giving him. Though Qui-Gon was not a healer, the art of Jedi healing was one of his Master's strong suits and he had taught his apprentice well.

//Anytime you need a distraction, just holler. I have one very handy here in the gladiator dungeons.//

//You're in a strange humour today, Master.// Obi-Wan noted.

//Concentrate on the task at hand, Padawan.//

//Yes, Master.// Obi-Wan broke off the mental communication with his Master and turned all his attention back to the mission at hand. He, G'uran and one other rebel were hidden outside the walls of the presidential estate. Night had already fallen three hours ago. Obi-Wan gestured briefly, turning the guards' attention away from their designated entry point.

"Go!" Like shadows in the night, they slipped across the street and silently sneaked into the presidential estate grounds. __________________________

~ THREE ~

Kai sat by the window, ignoring the other occupants in the room. Her life had recently became a game of run-and-hide. Out here in the vast galaxy, anything could happen. But ending up as a slave wasn't quite what she wanted. It reminded her too much of what she was before she ran away.

Kai gently touched her chest. There was a transmitter in her chest, implanted there by the Karageonian slave-master. If she tried to leave the planet, she would be blown to bits. Not that it matter to her. If she wants to leave, there would be no stopping her.

She thought of Set. Though he was completely cloaked to conceal his identity, Kai recognised him to be a cyborg. His presence worried and frightened her.

She thought of the bet D'maar made with his business associate, with her as the prize. She knew of her own worth, and none of it laid in her physical appearance. She suspected she knew who his business associate was. It was imperative that she escaped.

She thought of the man she recognised in the dungeons. Qui-Gon Jinn who tried to save her on Theomoral, though she chose to take the danger with her. He believed her dead, but no longer. All in all, Karageon was becoming a dangerous place for her. Too many familiar faces were gathering in this place.

It was time for her to leave. Which brings her back to the question: so why isn't she making a move at all? Kai glanced at the night sky. It was the colour of deep midnight blue, for Karageon has no true night.

She thought of Qui-Gon again, with his quiet dignity and warrior's grace. His eyes were very much the colour of the Karageonian night. As for her question, she has this hunch that it all had to do with him.

* * *

"What's on your mind, Set?" The envoy asked as she joined her assistant on the balcony.

Though Set had obeyed her command to join her for the dinner party D'maar was hosting now, he had kept away from the dining hall, preferring to stay in the background or out on the balcony. Still swathed in his hooded cloak, Set was staring out into the night. The envoy read the alertness in his ramrod pose. "My sensors picked up suspicious movement on the presidential grounds," he answered softly. "I believe it's the resistance."

"Hmm." The envoy smoothed the front of her black skirt, part of her armour getup.

She didn't trust D'maar as anymore than she could throw him. "Let D'maar handle it. If the situation get ugly, we bail."

"And Marionette?"

"We take her with us. She's what we're after, not this business deal." The envoy glanced at her assistant. "Go keep an eye on her."

"As you wish."

* * *

Gaining entrance into the President's bedchambers was easy. Especially when the Presidential Guards recognised G'uran and allowed his small group entry. It was them who guarded the comatose ruler vulnerable to attacks.

Even though D'maar was in power now, he could do nothing against a contingent of well- trained warriors fiercely protecting the rightful ruler of the planet.

"No change in his condition?" G'uran asked.

"None, sir." O'rado, the captain of the President's Guards replied. He bowed to the hooded figure of Obi-Wan. "Jedi, I bid you greeting."

"And I to you." Obi-Wan crossed the bedchambers to the President's bed, settling himself on the chair beside it. He pushed back his hood and studied the peaceful face of the Karageonian deep in a coma.

Placing a hand on G'karel's forehead, Obi-Wan sent his consciousness into the body of the comatose President. Remembering what his Master taught him about comas, Obi-Wan focused on G'karel's brain. Gently, he thrown out small tendrils of the Force, exploring and searching for the cause. There, he found it. A small alien presence, too small for the sensors to detect. An artificial device, very advanced, very skilfully made.

Obi-Wan tightened his focus until it was a long needle-thin tool and probed the device. It was absurdly simple, the device, but so tiny disabling it would be delicate work.

* * *

Qui-Gon nearly missed the strange passive presence barely rippling the Force before the dark shadow glided to a halt outside his cell. He rose from his cot, walking over to the door of his cell. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

Kai gestured.

"She says she's escaping," K'avin said quietly, joining him. "She wants you to go with her."

Qui-Gon took in the dark rough-spun clothes she wore and the black shawl covering her shiny hair. And finally the missing presence of the slave collar from her neck.

"If you escapes, they will use the transmitter and destroy you."

Kai gestured again.

"The transmitter is not a problem," K'avin translated. "Will you flee with her?"

"I can't leave yet." Qui-Gon replied regretfully. "If you could stay awhile longer, I promise we'll be free by tomorrow."

"She can't wait that long," K'avin interpreted her flashing hand gestures.

"Then I wish you a safe journey," Qui-Gon said softly and meant every word of it. Their gazes locked for a long moment, silently conveying without words the emotions they could not put into words. Then Kai was gone, retreating from the dungeons as silently as she had came.

Qui-Gon remained by the bars of his cell, tracking the bare ripples she created in the Force as she departed.

* * *

"Father!" G'uran rushed over to the bed and gently supported the President as he sat up. On the other side of the bed, Obi-Wan slumped in his chair, head bowed in fatigue. Breathing hard, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and liberally replenished himself with the Force.

"Son, how long was I out?" G'karel asked.

"A month, Father. You wouldn't have awaken if it wasn't for Padawan Kenobi here."

"Thank you," G'karel said. Obi-Wan solemnly nodded.

"It's my place to serve, President G'karel."

"Father, D'maar has made himself Governor-Regent. He is abusing his power of office. I need your help - "

"To stop him?" G'karel finished. He swung his legs over the side, getting up with his son's help. "I'm looking forward to it. Are my troops ready and in position?"

"Yes, Mr. President." O'rado replied with a set of clothes for G'karel. "And G'uran's underground resistance is in position to lend their aid as well. However, D'maar's forces is still stronger than ours. We need a distraction, and we've to move fast."

"Not a problem. There's one handy in the gladiator dungeons," Obi-Wan spoke up, finally rising from his chair. "My master is ready to spring it."

"Then by all means, distract D'maar's forces."

Obi-Wan nodded. //Master?//

//Yes, Padawan?//

//President G'karel is awake. We need a distraction.//

//Tell them to wait until D'maar's forces are fully committed.//

//Yes, Master.//

* * *

"Here," K'avin said, pressing Qui-Gon's lightsaber into his hand.

"Thank you." With a small gesture, the Jedis' manacles unlocked, freeing them. Another shove with the Force, and the door to their cell burst open with a noisy clatter.

"That ought to bring the guards down," Qui-Gon muttered. The commotion had awoken every gladiator in the dungeons. They stared in amazement as the Jedi calmly exited their cell.

E'mura jumped to her feet. "Is it time?" she called eagerly.

"Yes, it is." Qui-Gon replied, igniting his lightsaber and dropping into a defensive stance.

Moments later, the guards ran into the dungeons. "Blast them!" shouted their leader.

Qui-Gon deftly deflected the laser bolts back to the guards. K'avin hung back, the dungeons too small for two Jedi to wield their weapons efficiently. Instead, he used the Force to unlock every manacle and cell door in the dungeon. The fight was brief.

By the time Qui-Gon was done, he left a pile of injured guards on the ground. T'juro stepped from his cell, eyeing the two Jedi with something akin to awe. They have dropped their mental images and their real appearances were vastly different from their disguises. He glanced at the numerous wounded guards unable to get up from the ground and his respect deepened.

The Jedi truly lived up to their reputation.

In a voice projected by the Force to reach all corners of the dungeons, Qui-Gon spoke, "if you wish to gain your freedom, follow us."

"What made you think a couple of us could overwhelm D'maar's forces?" T'juro pointed out.

"My underground resistance is attempting to overthrow D'maar tonight," E'mura spoke up. "We could use all the help we can get."

T'juro pondered, then finally reached down and picked up a fallen blast-rifle. "So what are we waiting for?"

"Put the guards in the cells," K'avin said. As the gladiators moved to carry out K'avin's orders, Qui-Gon stepped up to T'juro. "We need to free all the prisoners."

"This way."

* * *

Somewhere in the presidential palace, Kai ducked behind a door. A group of D'maar's guards was fleeing down the corridor, exchanging fire with the ragtag forces of gladiators and rebels chasing them. There was a revolt going on, the realisation hit her. So that's why he wouldn't leave with her. Somehow she didn't think he was the type to stand aside and watch D'maar abuse his power.

Retracing her steps, Kai hunted for another way to the presidential hanger. She had to leave as quickly as possible. With a revolt going on, she knew the cyborg was bound to make his appearance as well and he would choose this time to come after her.

Coming upon a closed door, she tapped the control panel. The door slid open and she came face to face with Set. Even before she caught a good look of him, she turned tail and ran. Recovering swiftly, Set promptly followed.

* * *

The envoy was a warrior at heart. Unlike the nobles in the dining hall, she immediately read the tension in the rigid poise of the guard hurrying towards D'maar.

She watched intently as he whispered something into the ears of the Governor-Regent, and noted the sudden paleness of D'maar's face.

Then the Governor-Regent rose and apologising, made his exit from the dining hall. No one suspects a thing, except for her. Calmly, the envoy rose from her seat and sauntered to the balcony, ignoring the sudden commotion filling the dining hall as she conveniently hid herself in the shadows on the balcony.

In the dining hall, the nobles gasped as G'karel strode into the dining hall, his son on one side and Obi-Wan on the other. The President was holding a blaster and it was aimed straight at D'maar back-pedalling before them. Someone, a guard, opened fire. Obi-Wan parried the blaster bolt easily and it scorched the floor. A band of rebels and Guards sprinted into the hall, disarmed D'maar's guards and took them prisoners.

"President G'karel," stammered D'maar. "T-this is - "

"A shock? I don't doubt it," G'karel growled. "And neither do I like it when scum like you try to usurp my rule, D'maar. You're finished. G'uran, will you do the honour?"

"With pleasure, Father." G'uran grinned nastily as he stepped forward with manacles in hands. The envoy watched silently as D'maar was put in chains. It was clearly time to leave.

Stepping quietly away from the open doorway, she pressed a small beacon call to summon her slave-rigged ship and proceeded to climb up the wall of the palace to the roof. Inside, Obi-Wan was well aware of the envoy's presence, still and watchful.

When she finally made a move to escape, Obi-Wan reacted at once. Running over to the balcony, he stared up as she scaled the nearly smooth wall at an impossibly rapid rate. Shaking his head in amazement, he coiled and sprang up. Propelled by the Force, he literally flew up to the rooftop way ahead of the envoy. Landing neatly on his feet, he backed away from the edge of the roof. Very soon, the envoy reached the top.

She crouched on the ledge, glaring at the Padawan blocking her way, lightsaber in hand. Swiftly discarding her cloak, she leapt at him, unsheathing deadly vibro-claws at the same time. Obi-Wan was barely able to jump out of her way, feeling her claws tore through his sleeves. She was a cyborg, he realised. And that was all the time he had before she attacked him again. There was no time to do anything else but to defend himself.

Down in the dining hall, Qui-Gon and K'avin entered the room from the other end. They trotted through the dining hall, K'avin towards the President and Qui-Gon veering off in the same direction Obi-Wan had left so suddenly. G'uran was relieved to see K'avin alive.

"I thought you were dead," he told K'avin.

"What can I say? Jedi are hard to kill," the Jedi Knight replied.

"Where is your companion going?" he asked.

"After his Padawan, no doubt."

* * *

Kai fled up the stairs and burst onto the rooftop, skidding to a stop despite herself as she spotted Obi-Wan battling another cyborg. A female, Set's companion most likely. Almost instantly she recovered herself, darting away from the stairway as Set lunged through the narrow doorway. Set didn't allow her time to regroup.

He attacked her with an inhuman speed, forcing her to back-pedal across the roof. Kai ducked his grasp. Her fighting instincts rising, she retaliated. She felt her fingers morphing and hardening into sharpened claws even as she slashed at Set with knife-sharp digits. There was no time to think, just react and stay alive.

Twisting and dancing away from the cyborg, Kai yanked his cloak from his body, allowing it to flutter to the ground. Then she stopped abruptly, staring at Set wide-eyed. She knew that face, the exotic features and dark eyes, even better than she knew her own.

It was the face of her companion who sought to protect her and loved her despite her inhuman nature. It was the face of her partner who sacrificed his life so she could live hers...or so she thought.

"Surprise," Set grinned. Numb with shock, Kai stood stock-still, unable to tear her gaze away from his face. "He fought long and hard," Set went on relentlessly. "But in the end, we broke him. Now there's only me." His movements a blur, Set lunged at her again.

Kai didn't blink as she felt the vibro-knife sinking into her shoulder. Didn't remove her gaze from the familiar face inches away from hers, all twisted with cruelty. Set's feral grin widened when he saw the betrayal finally and slowly seeping into her eyes. Moving like lightning, he yanked the vibro-knife from her shoulder and planted the specially-designed restraining bolt on her chest.

Pain like nothing Kai had ever known jolted through her body, disrupting every motor and neural processes she had. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream, Kai crumpled to the ground, writhing. The restraining bolt was rapidly draining the strength from her body, blanketing her in white-hot pain, binding her mind in its restrictive coils.

Blindly, Kai groped for the restraining bolt. Uncaring of what she did to her flesh, she tore it away from her chest. A scream left her lips, drowning out the sickeningly sound of tearing flesh. The restraining bolt slipped from her hand as she slumped back onto the ground, nearly sobbing from the burning pain.

Stepping forward to confront the fallen Kai, Set was thrown back by an invisible force. Regaining his feet again, he glared at the human standing protectively over the helpless Kai.

"Who are you?" he snarled. "A friend," Qui-Gon replied coolly. Then he attacked.

From past experience, he knew the longer a cyborg was kept off balance, the better chance he had of winning. And he fully intended to win today. Across the roof, the two Jedi fought.

Obi-Wan against the cyborg envoy and Qui-Gon against Set. They were better prepared this time, knowing what weapons cyborgs wielded and how to stay out of the weapons' way. It was an edge, but not much.

For all their Force-augmented speed and strength, they were barely a match for the cyborgs. One hand clutching her chest, face ashen and stained with tears, Kai painfully gained to her knees, then to her feet. Her crimson-gold hair came loose from its bindings and cascaded freely down her back. She was shaking violently, trying hard to find the strength to help Qui-Gon but it was so difficult to move. The envoy's ship was approaching closer and closer to the presidential building but she paid it no mind.

Gathering her strength, she watched and waited for an opening. Qui-Gon faked a left and a dodge. Dropping below Set's guard, he reversed his grip on his lightsaber and stabbed it through Set's midsection. The cyborg jerked, a spasm of pain.

Pouncing onto Set's back, Kai buried her fingers up to her hands into his cranium. Brutally smashing through his neural defences, she rooted deep into his head and unleashed a memory download. Set stiffened, eyes wide in surprise and rage, helpless against the flow of memories into his head.

Qui-Gon quickly withdrew his lightsaber and backed away, not sure what was going on, but ready to push the advantage. He stole a glance over at his apprentice, then at K'avin who had ran up to the roof.

Taking in the situation, the Jedi Knight raced to Obi-Wan's aid. Obi-Wan felt the approach of K'avin. Dodging to the side, he deliberately lured the envoy's attention away from K'avin, forcing her to leave her back open.

As Obi-Wan guessed, K'avin chose this moment to strike. The envoy staggered as K'avin's lightsaber bit deep into her back. Whirling around, her arm connected soundly with the Knight's jaws, sending the Knight sprawling across the cold roof.

Obi-Wan leaped in, lightsaber aiming straight for her unprotected flank. Moving like quicksilver, the envoy batted away his lightsaber and leapt, flipping over Obi-Wan's head. Landing on her feet, she turned and jumped again, swinging herself onto the extended ramp of her hovering ship in a single fluid motion.

She paused, turning to look back. "Set!" With a roar, Set tossed Kai from his back, like a tauntaun would with an unwanted rider. She went tumbling to the roof. Too exhausted and pain-ridden to move, Kai laid as she fell, unmoving. The cyborg clutched his head in his hands, wavering on his feet. Whirling around suddenly, he stared at Kai as though through new eyes.

"No," he whispered, sounding more human than it was possible. "What have I done?"

"SET!" The envoy cried out again. Recognition faded from Set's eyes. He bared his teeth in a defiant scream. He knew when he was beaten and when to retreat. Now was the time to do both. Racing past the Jedi, he effortlessly sprang for their ship hovering next to the presidential palace. The cyborgs retreated up the ramp even as the ship took off for deep space.

Qui-Gon shut down his lightsaber, knowing the battle was over, and went over to Kai. She was so still and unmoving. Grasping her shoulders, he gently turned her onto her back, pushing the thick tresses away from her face.

"Is she all right?" Obi-Wan asked anxiously as he approached, supporting a groggy K'avin.

"She's unconscious." Qui-Gon made a quick examination of her wounds. He drew back in, startled, when he saw the charred gaping hole in the middle of her chest and the knife wound in her shoulder.

Above him, Obi-Wan gasped. "She doesn't bleed. And the wounds! They're healing on their own. What is she, Master?"

"I don't know." Qui-Gon carefully gathered Kai into his arms. She was almost weightless as he cradled her against his chest, a fragile being hurting deeply. "But I do know she needs a safe place to rest and heal, just like anyone of us." ___________________________

~ EPILOGUE ~

It took Qui-Gon some time, but finally he found Kai in a secluded glen tucked away in the garden of the presidential estate. He stood back in the shadows for some time, studying the slender enigma sitting by the pond.

She wore a sleeping gown, the light colour visible in the night. Her hair, free and brushed, clung to her back like a crimson-gold blanket. From his angle, Kai looked painfully ethereal, otherworldly in her fragile beauty.

But Qui-Gon knew better; there was a core of iron strength inside her. Four days ago, he had brought Kai to the presidential medical facility. She was unconscious and wounded, but healing on her own...

* * *

"She is healing well enough on her own. All I can do is give her a steady supply of nutrients to replenish that she is using in her self-healing." The medic droid glanced at his sleeping patient, then back to the Jedi Master. If a droid could convey puzzlement, this one would.

"What else?" Qui-Gon prompted.

"I am not entirely sure if she is...entirely human or even organic. The scan I did gave me some interesting results. Kai is not fully organic. Neither is she fully artificial."

"So she is a cyborg then?"

"No, not in that sense. I believe she is an amalgam of both organic and artificial. There is no distinctly organic nor distinctly artificial components in her. Her very flesh is composed of both."

Qui-Gon went over to the med-bed, staring thoughtfully at the sleeping Kai. So vulnerable and human in her sleep, yet he remembered the deadliness and inhuman traits she displayed in battle.

"When will she wake up?"

"I estimate, in the next three days."

* * *

That had been four days ago.

When she finally woke from her healing sleep, Kai kept pretty much to herself. Qui-Gon sensed her growing need to leave Karageon, but the President had bade her to stay. After all, he mistakenly believed, Kai had helped in overthrowing D'maar.

Qui-Gon stepped forward, deliberately rustling the leaves of the bushes to announce his arrival.

Kai looked up, tensing minutely but relaxing as she saw who it was.

"May I?" he asked mildly. Kai turned her gaze back to the pond. Taking that as her consent, Qui-Gon lowered himself to the grassy ground next to her. He noted the thinness of her gown that was no protection against the Karageonian cold. Yet she was not shivering. "Here."

Kai glanced down at the write-padd he put in her lap, and back at him questioningly.

"I do not know the Universal sign language. You'll going have to communicate with me in writing."

-Very well,- she wrote in hesitating strokes on the write-padd.

"How did you survive the fall on Theomoral?" Qui-Gon asked.

-I did not. My redundancies kicked in and I lived again.- Kai hesitated, then wrote, -I am not human.-

"Neither are you a cyborg. So what are you?"

-I'd rather not say.-

Qui-Gon decided to change track. "How did you end up on Karageon?"

-I stole a ship and left Theomoral. Pirates attacked my ship, they captured me and sold me to D'maar as a slave.-

"Why are the cyborgs after you?"

-Because their master wants me back.-

"Why?"

-It's complicated.-

Another evasion. Qui-Gon sighed inwardly and tried again. "How long have you been on the run?"

-Far too long.-

"You wish to leave Karageon soon?"

It was a statement. Kai hesitated, then nodded.

"You fear they would return for you." She remained silent. "You can't run forever, Kai." Kai looked away, but Qui-Gon gently grasped her chin and firmly turned her gaze back to his. "The Jedi Council have summoned my apprentice and I back to Coruscant. We're leaving tomorrow morning. Come with us. I would like to help you in any way I can."

She gazed at him steadily, green eyes guileless and open. No longer cold, no longer remote, but filled with calm acceptance, as though she had reached a very important decision.

"You can't," she whispered. Qui-Gon blinked, startled to hear her speak. She reached out and placed her fingers lightly on his cheek. "This is my fight," she continued in her low melodious voice.

"Kai..."

Kai leaned forward and breathed into his ear, "Gail. My name is Gail." Dark blue eyes met luminous green, neither needing words to say what they felt for each other.

Then with a faint rustle of silk, she left the glen and the Jedi Master, walking away into the darkness.

* * *

"She's gone," K'avin spoke without preamble as he walked Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to their cruiser.

"Firegold?" Obi-Wan questioned.

"Kai, Firegold, whatever her name is. She upped and left. Security reported a ship missing from northern Serat spaceport." K'avin eyed Qui-Gon who did not react with surprise. "You knew she would pull a stunt like this, didn't you, Qui-Gon?"

"I was expecting it," Qui-Gon said serenely. "So why didn't you persuade her to stay then?"

Qui-Gon's smile was enigmatic and a trifle sad. "Not all paths are meant to be walked together." With that the Jedi Master strode up the ramp to the cruiser.

His apprentice and the Jedi Knight stared after his retreating back.

Then K'avin shook his head and sighed. "Still the same infuriating Jedi."

"That's my Master," Obi-Wan shrugged.

They exchanged a smile, the former apprentice and the Padawan, knowing from experience how much Qui-Gon's quirks tend to drive those around him up the wall. K'avin clapped a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Treasure your moments with him, Obi-Wan. I sense you'll not be a Padawan for much longer."

* * *

"Master?" Obi-Wan hovered at the entrance of Qui-Gon's bedchamber. "The shuttle has arrived to take us to the Republic cruiser." They had arrived back on Coruscant yesterday and reported the events on Karageon to the Jedi Council. There were some actions the Council did not approve of, but in the end, they accepted Qui-Gon's judgement.

In return, they informed the Jedi Master of Valorum's decision to appoint him as his ambassador to Naboo. Apparently, the Chancellor wished for a speedy resolution to the Trade Federation's blockade.

Once again, both Master and apprentice found themselves with only a day's rest before their next mission. Obi-Wan waited patiently as Qui-Gon roused himself from his meditation. Qui-Gon gracefully unfolded his tall frame from the meditation mat, put on his Jedi robe and turned to leave. Their bags were already sent ahead of them to the Republic cruiser.

Side by side, they walked through the quiet corridors of the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan spotted a redhead Jedi from the corner of his eyes. It was no one he recognised but the colour of her hair reminded him of someone else. "I wonder where she is now?" he mused aloud.

Qui-Gon glanced down at his apprentice. He had long ago decided to keep her true name to himself, sensing that it was a gift she did not easily bestow on anyone. "Kai?"

"Kai, Firegold, whatever her name is." Obi-Wan repeated what K'avin said to them days ago. "She's an intriguing enigma."

"That she is."

"Do you think of her often, Master?" Obi-Wan asked suddenly.

Qui-Gon smiled serenely. "Focus, Padawan. This is a crucial mission entrusted to us."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan replied dutifully, knowing full well Qui-Gon had evaded answering his question. "We're Jedi first, humans last."

Later that night on board the Republic cruiser, it occurred to Obi-Wan that maybe Qui-Gon did give him an answer of a sort.