Chapter Four

"Maneuver, for Quizia's sake!" shouted Ashanti and then found herself airborne as the ship was thrown forward again. She felt someone grab her tail and jerk her backward. *That had better be you, padawan.* she growled mentally.

*It is.* he answered in kind. *Now stop your whining.*

"They are telling us to power down and prepare for boarding," one of the pilots informed them.

"Well, they aren't space pirates," noted Clea from behind her master's left shoulder. "They never demand anything. They just board and take."

"Thank you, little miss information network," growled Ashanti. She jerked a pilot from his chair. "I'll take over." She sat down, took a deep breath and soon the ship was spinning.

Manuevers that none of the pilots dared try flew from the controls at Ashanti's finger tips. Her teeth were gritted and teal eyes blazed in controlled anger. Her temper was legendary, explosive and short lived. The control she had on her species' natural temper was extraordinary, but it was still a cause for concern to those unused to her species. Titainiens rarely left their jungle planet of Maagalon and were therefore a race not many knew how to handle.

Qui-Gon shoved Clea into a chair and strapped her in, maintaining his sense of balance with more ease that Clea thought was possible. "Stay there," he ordered her and she nodded. Qui-Gon helped the other pilot from his seat and into a new one, taking his place in the co-pilot chair.

"What maneuver?" he asked, not even taking a deep breath as he prepared to join his former master in battle.

"Pak Four Oh Nine." Ashanti had to yell to be heard over the scream of fire and the taxed engines.

Clea watched as Qui-Gon nodded one time and then immersed himself in the Force. The white-skinned girl closed her eyes as well, channeling all her own Force energy to her master for his use.

Qui-Gon felt the surge of Clea's strength within him, the bond sealing. *Thank you, padawan.* he told her mentally and he registered her surprise with a small smile.

*Welcome to the club, Clea,"* chirped Ashanti in his head. *This is a rare thing. A padawan conversing mentally with her master and her master's master. Very keen, young lady. You are strong.*

The two masters could feel Clea's pride glowing within them. *There goes those private conversations,* Ashanti joked as she turned the ship dead about and headed it straight for a small fighter pod heading their way.

*Like you guys were going to keep me in the dark anyway,* Clea informed them both.

Qui-Gon was too busy concentrating to put in his own two-credits worth. He gritted his teeth as he blasted not only the fighter they had been on a head-on collision for but the other three surrounding it.

"Good shooting," encouraged Ashanti as she veered the craft left, then right, then right again. The confusing pattern of turns made it difficult for the attackers to get a bead on them. The randomness of it also stopped them from second-guessing her next move.

The Force flowed freely from the two of them and soon there was nothing left of their attackers but the main ship, a huge monstrous thing that Ashanti was surprised could maneuver at all in space. It had antennae everywhere and flashing red lights were almost as numerous through it's various portholes and protrusions.

"Well," one of the pilots said as the group of them viewed their attack, "now what?"

Ashanti turned and looked at him. "Not a clue," she said with a shrug. "I was hoping you guys might recognize it."

"Why us?" asked the pilot with a nervouce laugh.

"Because you've taken six days to reach a port that keeps changing it's location and I've been reading your logs. You've been talking to these people for three days now." She gave a feral grin. "Who are they?"

Clea's blue lightsaber powered up and cut in half the blaster pistol the other pilot was drawing from his jacket. "Kindly answer her, please," Clea said pleasantly, "or I'll go for the hand."

Qui-Gon couldn't help it. He grinned at Clea's matter-of-fact and overly polite tone of voice.

"Well?" demanded Ashanti petulantly.

"Ishati Jinn paid us double what the Council did to transport you here. That's all I know." The other pilot edged back in his seat, hoping the lightsaber wouldn't come after him.

"Loyalty is a hard trait to get around here lately, Qui-Gon," complained Ashanti, claws unsheathing from her fingertips. The pilot fainted. The other one whimpered his distress. "The Council will be very disappointed, if they don't already know about this nonsense already."

"Odds are good that they knew something like this was going to happen," noted Clea, powering down her lightsaber and clipping it back onto her belt.

Qui-Gon and Ashanti nodded their agreement. "Clea, take them to the brig and make sure they stay there. Then meet us at Ishati's quarters. I think this all needs to be resolved." Clea followed her master's orders, shoving the guard to move faster when he staggered under his companion's dead weight.

Ashanti watched Qui-Gon closely as they strode toward the other Jinn's chambers. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Break the Code," Qui-Gon told her brusquely. "This nonsense won't be resolved any other way." He paused and looked at her before punching the button to enter Ishati's quarters. They could hear him rustling around hurriedly inside. "I'm going to make some new traditions while I'm at it. Name a trustworthy and capable female member of my family."

Ashanti looked at him as if he were crazed, but she complied. "Mai-Lin Jinn is a few years older than you and a very active community leader. She holds much respect in the family and the government. She would be a very able successor and proxy if that's what you want."

"Thank you."

Ashanti gave him one of her grins. "You're welcome. Can I watch the fireworks?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I'm going to contact the Plumeran prime minister first, then I'm going to speak with Mai-Lin. Maybe you should help get this transport to a space port and concentrate on the negotiations?" He paused. "How are you going to get them to agree anyway?"

Ashanti's grin grew into a broad smile. "That's my concern. You go talk to your people. That should keep you busy and out of my hair for awhile." Qui-Gon grunted and strode away, leaving the small alien woman alone. "Now if I can keep the Council from taking off my head at my next maneuver, I'll be okay."

She turned back to the main bridge with a grim look that would have given Qui-Gon great pause and cause for heart failure if he'd seen it.