Chapter Three

"He's going to be stubborn, Master Yoda," Ashanti informed the green, wizened Jedi master through the holographic communications.

Yoda grunted but didn't seem to be all that surprised. "Like you he is," Yoda informed her with a slight accusing tone.

"I got it from you!" Ashanti shifted the blame on her own former master. The two looked at each other for a moment and she sighed. "The only way I'm going to get him off this mission is to knock him and his padawan out, load them in another transport and send them straight to you gagged and bound."

Yoda's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Tempting but not necessary that is, Ashanti." Yoda put his chubby index finger to his lips in a gesture of thought. "Continue then with him at your side. Plumera confused at Ishati's presence. Ambassador they send is now missing. Keep watch on all parties involved you will."

Ashanti rolled her eyes. "I can't baby-sit them, Master Yoda! That's ridiculous! Qui-Gon is his own man now and must make his own way."

"Follow the orders of the Council he will or Jedi he will no longer be!" snapped Yoda, ears twitching rapidly with his aggravation.

Ashanti bowed to him mockingly, knowing she pushing the line with it. "Yes, my master," she intoned.

Yoda took it for the insult it was. "Don't care if approve or disapprove you do, Ashanti. Follow orders you will or same goes for you." *Understand?* The understand was silently spoken. Though her bond with own former master was weakened, it was still there and she knew of his irritation at her disrespect. "Transport ambassadors safely and resolve with negotiation their disputes. Keep eye on Ishati you will." The monitor blinked out, ending the transmission.

Yoda was peeved at her and she had no doubt that little act of disrespect would go on her record. One more to add to her list of faults, she supposed, but Yoda had gotten her point and they both knew it.

Now to track down Qui-Gon and beat his head against a wall until he followed her train of thought.

She found him with Clea in the now empty lounge the ambassadors had been in. Clea had gotten them comfortable and (more importantly) separated . All that was left was the girl's mission briefing on the changes being made. Clea turned to Ashanti when the rusty skinned alien entered the room, but Qui-Gon pointedly ignored her entrance.

Displeased with her own tantrum with Yoda, Ashanti snapped at him, "Stop acting like a child!" He turned to her in astonishment and Clea backed up a pace. She had caught on to the tension between the two knights. "I have new orders from Yoda. I can't say I'm thrilled with them, but they should make you happy. You stay, but you follow my orders. Got it?" Using her tail for leverage she pulled herself up until she was nose to nose with Qui-Gon.

He merely looked at her, his blue eyes cold and distant. She hated it when he did that.

"Ishati tells me the Dome of Jinn has fallen."

Ashanti blinked at the change of subject. "He lies."

"He has the documentation to prove it. That is why he is an ambassador." Qui-Gon didn't look like he was going to budge on this.

Ashanti growled something not very polite about bureaucrats and lowered herself back to the floor. She glanced at Clea, noting the girl's censure. When did I become the bad guy here? she thought to herself. "Where did you get this trivial piece of tripe?" she asked casually.

"Ishati," Clea informed her. "He told me when I took him to his quarters."

"He lies. Did he tell just you or did Qui-Gon get involved as I'm sure he did?" Ashanti blatantly ignored Qui-Gon's presence.

"I will speak to him after I get done raking you over the coals." Qui-Gon's great irritation washed over them all in waves. None of the trio was thrilled with the sensation.

"Peace over anger," warned Ashanti and Qui-Gon's struggled to control the white hot fury building inside him. It frightened him, this extreme anger. He abhorred being used and controlled outside his own influence. He hated feeling he had no direction or control. "If you let him get to you, then he will have won the battle over you he desperately needs."

Qui-Gon grunted noncommittally. "What news from Yoda then?"

"The three of us continue the mission and keep an eye on Ishati. The negotiations must proceed and this conflict be resolved before it escalates into a war. Both are top priority." She hesitated and then plunged on. "The Plumerian government has reported their ambassador as missing and are confused at Ishati's presence, which confirms that he's up to something." She felt Qui-Gon pause at this bit of news, as she hoped he would. "He also warns that if any of us defy the Council's restrictions in this matter, we'll be looking for a new occupation and will be thankful for that fortune your father left us."

Qui-Gon's eyes met hers in apprehension. It was indeed more serious than he what he believed if Yoda made those threats. There had only been one instance in which a knight was dismissed from the Order that either of them knew, and the circumstances had indeed been very serious.

"Very well, let's see what my cousin is up to, shall we?" He began striding toward the door. He paused when he noticed that Ashanti was not following and was actually holding Clea back. "Aren't you coming?" he asked, unease settling in his stomach.

Ashanti shook her head. "This is your confrontation. You handle Ishati. Clea and I will handle the negotiations."

Clea sidestepped Ashanti's tail blocking her way. "I am Qui-Gon's apprentice, not yours, Master Ashanti. I follow his guidance."

Qui-Gon hesitated then nodded. "I agree. Come, Padawan, together we'll face whatever comes our way." Before he walked out the door, he caught Ashanti's beaming smile. He felt better, knowing that Ashanti approved.

The door shut behind the two of them, and Ashanti sighed with relief. Stubborn as he was, Qui-Gon was a good man and an excellent Jedi. She had no doubts he would follow the Force and his conscience faithfully. That he would take care of whatever problem Ishati would become, Ashanti had even less of a doubt now. The only thing that worried her now was the negotiations concerning the ambassadors just several doors down. Their dispute was going to be hard to muddle through to get to the main problem of who should control tolls on the trade routes to the Republic.

She had an idea on how to get them to cooperate though. It was going to get her in a lot of trouble.

She grinned. Like this was anything new.

The pilot reported several more days travel before they arrived at the spaceport the Supreme Chancellor sent the ambassadors to for negotiation purposes. Ashanti started negotiations early by interviewing each of the five ambassadors to understand their goals in the proceedings. Once she had that determined, she knew it was going to be smooth sailing.

The ambassadors goals were simple. Each planet wanted to control their own personal trade route to the main Republic trade route some several parsecs away from their portion of the system. The Trade Federation had suggested smaller routes to a main route that led to the Republic's main route, but after squabbles of who would operate the tolls the Federation proposed, the Trade Federation threw up their hands in disgust, whined at the Supreme Chancellor and the Senate, who ordered the Jedi to intercede. No one was happy about this maneuver, including the Jedi.

As a rule, the Jedi were not negoiators for anything but peace. While they were warriors of high standing, their reputation for passivity caused some consternation amongst the places they traveled. The Jedi defended themselves only when provoked. An army they were not and refused to be. While a single Jedi could be manipulated, one Jedi could only do so much for whomever manipulated said Jedi.

Jedi were not, for that reason, very popular. Most knights tended to be wary and with their bond with the living Force, Jedi were hard to dupe to begin with. It had been known to happen but the occasions were rare indeed.

Any hope the ambassadors harbored in having an upper hand fell when Ashanti was placed in charge of the negotiations. She was no dummy and the dignitaries knew it. That she interviewed them one at a time, was well-informed of the proposals by the Trade Federation and even seemed to know something about each ambassadors' background was disconcerting to them. To Ashanti it was a week without sleep, trying to translate bio files and muck her way through financial babble.

Qui-Gon watched his master trudge through the proceedings, knowing she was bored out of her mind and irritated beyond belief. It was a small measure of comfort as he dealt with his obviously angry cousin day after day. Clea informed her master after day three in Ishati's presence that she was enclosing herself in her quarters with technical journals and didn't want to be disturbed unless space pirates were attacking. Qui-Gon had given his permission with a heavy sigh, wishing he could join her.

He saw Ashanti's point: Ishati was a raging individual of anger, jealousy, a smidge of hatred, a load of envy, and a cubic ton of unpredictability. Qui-Gon learned that turning his back on his cousin would not be the wisest thing he could do.

The fifth evening on board, the two cousins ate dinner privately in Ishati's quarters. The silence had been strained and there was a new air to his cousin's emotional state, making Qui-Gon wary of the other man.

Ishati dabbed at his mouth primly and leaned back for the servant droid to remove the soup bowl. He leaned forward again and gave Qui-Gon an engaging smile. "Tell me, cousin Qui-Gon, now that you know about the political power our family has, are you going to do anything with it?"

Qui-Gon set the spoon down and wiped his own mouth, though not as primly as Ishati did. He lift his glass of blue juice and sipped it while he formulated an answer. There was a game in this question, Qui-Gon knew, he just had to figure out what it was before answering.

"The Code forbids it." He spoke the words softly with as much unconcern as he could muster. He was rewarded with Ishati's suddenly stiff posture and the angry flash of blue eyes.

"The Code," Ishati sneered, "means more to you than the welfare of a hundred or so people under your care by familial law?" Ishati slammed his fist down on the table. Qui-Gon watched him calmly, yet closely.

Ishati stood up and began to pace in agitation. "Look at you, Qui-Gon!" Ishati gestured to Qui-Gon's humble attire: the traditional Jedi gi tunic, heavy duty belt with compartments and pouches attached within easy reach around his waist, the sturdy, yet worn brown pants and the scuffed boots that had seen hundreds of footsteps on almost as many planets. "This life Ashanti 'gave' to you is a sham! It's no more the Dome of Jinn's life than the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic's. The family needs you. Return with me and put things to right."

"What's wrong that you cannot fix?" Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair, unperturbed by Ishati's insinuation that he was a poor example of a Jedi.

Ishati's eyes flashed again. "You are the Dome, I am merely your heir. I can do nothing without your permission."

Qui-Gon gave a half-grin, knowing he had just found the trap. "And you propose I give that power of proxy without ascertaining what you will do with the family power? I think not. It's forbidden."

"Yes, yes, I know, I know," snapped Ishati with a dismissive wave. "The precious Jedi Code."

"It may mean nothing to you, Ishati, but it means everything to me." Qui-Gon nodded to the droid servant waiting to serve them the next course. "The Code I follow is as important to me as family power is to you. You claim that it is all important, but it is only important to you. It means little to me. I understand it's importance to Plumera and the Jinn family, but I have to look at a larger picture. A Jedi belongs to not one world, but all worlds. Our home is the Republic itself. I may have been born on Plumera and have blood family on Plumera, but my true family is much larger, my home world more important than single entities."

Ishati looked at his cousin sadly. "You understand nothing, cousin. We are everything. Without us, Plumera falls. When Plumera falls, so does the Republic."

Qui-Gon was so surprised by the overly arrogant statement that he began to laugh. Ishati grew enraged and Qui-Gon stemmed his laughter. "Do you actually believe that?" Qui-Gon asked in wonderment. "What nonsense! If the Republic didn't fall when Plumera was engulfed in a plague that wiped out more than half the population, then it won't if one family dynasty dies away."

"What do you know? You only see the big picture, cousin, not the minute details of everyday life." Ishati swiped the plate full of food off the table immediately after the droid set it down.

Qui-Gon looked dispassionately at his relative. "Even I have better manners than that and I am only a Jedi." His sarcasm was evident. He stood, thanked the droid for a reason he could not fathom and left the quarters. Once the doors hissed shut he leaned against them in abject relief.

"There's no reasoning with the man," he muttered to himself.

"You don't reason with those who have a healthy dose of power on the brain, Qui-Gon, or haven't you figured that out yet?" asked Ashanti. He jumped. He didn't see her anywhere so he looked up.

Whenever Ashanti wanted to stay out in the open but conspicuously unobvious, she hung upside down from the ceiling. Sure enough, claws sunk into the metal ceiling, tail curled around the toes of her boots and her odd way of hanging onto surfaces, Ashanti seemed to be waiting for him to emerge from verbal battle with his power-crazed relative.

"Eavesdropping, Master?" he asked, amused despite himself. One could never be angry at Ashanti for long. It just wasn't possible. He had forgiven her deception several days ago and with her short attention span, her anger at him had been long-forgotten.

"Of course." She seemed unconcerned about her breach of privacy and ettiquette. It concerned her padawan so therefore she used whatever was necessary to see that he was all right. "Still on his high horse to get you to play familial god?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon began to walk down the hall toward his own quarters. Ashanti followed, scrambling across the ceiling as she did so. "He is exasperrating."

"The power hungry usually are. The ambassadors are pains in my backside. I'm considering threatening them all with the lightsaber, chop off a couple of fingers for incentive and enforce the Trade Federation's idea. It's actually a sound one for once. The tolls need to go, though. Like there needs to be more taxes in the Republic shipping lanes." Ashanti passed him from her high-up perch and somersaulted to the ground, blocking his path.

He stopped. "What, tree elf?" he huffed, knowing she was going to say something to be helpful but would only wind up irritating him. She had that expression.

It was the wrong expression. "Do you feel that disturbance..." Her words were cut off as they were both tossed forward as if the ship had suddenly applied brakes. Qui-Gon crashed into his former master, feeling her grunt as his weight hit her full force.

The alarm klaxon went off and three ambassadors came charging out into the hallway, ready to voice complaints. "Get back in there!" Ashanti snapped. "We might be boarded by space pirates or something." They all rushed back in their rooms, no doubt locking themselves in as well. "Idiots," she groused as the two sprinted toward the bridge. "What else is going to go wrong?"