Part Twelve

Qui-Gon had a bad feeling about the whole situation. He was sneaking along the corridor with Master Hal Lim and the Force was trying to tell him something, but he didn't quite understand.

He felt guilty, actually. Here was the missing knight he and Ashanti searched for, yet Qui-Gon didn't trust him. Something wasn't right about him. Trained to obey his elders within the Order, Qui-Gon felt a sense of guilt at his feelings toward the master. Hal Lim didn't seem to notice the misgivings, or if he did, he said nothing about them.

An overwhelming sense of danger warned Qui-Gon and he hit the floor moments before the blaster bolt passed harmlessly where he had been. Hal Lim dodged another and the two human males darted to doorway alcoves on opposite sides of the corridor. Qui-Gon's lightsaber hummed with an intense blue brightness, glowing brighter as the midichlorians hummed within him, telling him the Force's warnings and will.

Qui-Gon noticed that Hal Lim brought out a blaster himself. Qui-Gon's uneasiness about the master grew. The absence of his lightsaber was simple to explain away, but Qui-Gon could not do it comfortably. A Jedi's weapon of choice was his or her lightsaber. They would have it retrieved at all costs. The use of a blaster or other weapon was permissible but only if the lightsaber was unavailable.

Ashanti had Qui-Gon trained for blasters and other weapons for reasons she gave as being prepared for anything. Qui-Gon hadn't been comfortable with the other weapons, but he understood the reasoning behind his extra training.

Hal Lim handled his blaster with too uncommon familiarity for a member of the Jedi Order. That made Qui-Gon very uneasy.

He shifted his attention from his comrade in arms to the enemy beyond. Several of the pig-looking guards sprinted down the corridor and Qui-Gon leapt from his cover brandishing his lightsaber. The first guard was caught directly in the rib cage with Qui-Gon's wide swing. The second guard lost his arm and fell back screaming. Hal Lim picked off two with as many shots, an impressive feat in such close quarters and quickly moving targets. Qui-Gon flipped over the remaining guard, slashing downward as he did so. The guard fell into two halves in a rather gory display of Qui-Gon's weapon's ability.

Hal Lim swallowed, watching the boy who accompanied him. That the apprentice was highly skilled was more than obvious. With any luck, the boy was fooled that he really was the knight Hal Lim and would stay that way. Though 'Hal Lim' was confident in his ability with a blaster, he had heard stories of lightsabers deflecting blaster bolts with uncanny skill from a Jedi.

Forcing a look of pride on his face, he moved from his cover. "Well done, apprentice. Very well done indeed. Your training at the Temple was excellent."

Qui-Gon looked at him peculiarly. What an odd thing to say. Of course his training was excellent. It was the same training that had been given to Jedi students for centuries.

Unless this wasn't really Hal Lim, a knight of the Jedi Order.

Convinced now of his comrade's false identity, Qui-Gon decided to play along until Ashanti arrived. This fake Hal Lim might know where the real Hal Lim was.

The two continued to creep down the corridor, keeping sharp eyes out for traps and alarm systems that would give away their exact location. "Are you sure that the documents we need to prove Marteene's operation here is dangerous is here?" asked Qui-Gon, using his Force push ability to trigger a spring trap before Hal Lim stepped into it. The shard of stone from the wall bounced off the hidden spring and two arrow bolts imbedded into the wall next to Hal Lim.

Lim jumped in surprise and turned a quick smile in Qui-Gon's direction. "Yes, Bova's servants confirmed it the other day while they explored for her. No one pays attention to servants."

Qui-Gon nodded. In this the impostor seemed certain. He and Bova obviously wanted the documentation for themselves, so at least there was a common goal for the time being that Qui-Gon could work within.

Where was Master Ashanti?

Marteene the Hutt was wondering that himself. That Bova had turned traitor was obvious, but with her barricaded in her room with her own safety precautions and her well-trained fighting servants, she was impossible to get to. The Jinn boy had vanished with the other Jedi knight, creeping along the halls, looking for something and decimating his guards as they traveled.

It was enough to make a paranoid Hutt mad.

Marteene shifted his considerable bulk as yet another alarm went off. "What now?" he snapped in Hutteese to a long-eared, demented rabbit-looking servant who already looked harassed beyond his ability to handle things.

"I do not know, Master," the servant sniveled, ready to pull out what passed as hair on his head. "We have intruders inside the facility..."

"I know about the Jinn boy and that Jedi knight, what's-his-name Lim. What's the other alarm for?" interrupted Marteene in a near roar of irritation.

"Me."

Marteene looked up, his face going pale at the sight of Ashanti. "Kill her! Five hundred thousand Republic credits to the guard who blows her away!"

Ashanti flipped down and looked around in mild amusement at the lack of guards in the room. "I think there needs to be someone here before you can make such a generous offer, Marteene."

Her head was still fuzzy from the atmosphere she had breathed in earlier and somewhere outside Pak and Hal Lim were making enough trouble to cause the alarms to go insane. From the conversation she had just overheard Qui-Gon had met up with them and was joining the fun.

"You're in this with Bova, aren't you, Ashanti? The boy is your apprentice and Bova will get his fortune." Marteene slithered in her direction at a quick clip for a fat, slug-like alien.

Ashanti nimbly leaped over the Hutt and attached herself in her peculiar manner to the wall behind him. She tsk-tsked at him as he attempted to move around quickly to face her. "I don't know what you are talking about and frankly, I don't care either. Qui-Gon's money means nothing to me and you know it. What does Bova the Hutt have to do with anything?"

"She's in league with that other Jedi knight, and well you know it!" he roared, lunging at her again, a mad gleam in his eye.

Ashanti again dodged. "Hal Lim?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, I had him brought here and she took him as one of her little playtoys. Then she vanished and arrived when you did." Marteene growled low and switched to Hutteese. "You will all pay for your disrespect of my power."

"Whatever," sniffed Ashanti. "Excuse me, Marteene, but I'll dance with you later. I have a padawan learner to get out of trouble." She leaped past him again and darted out the door.

Marteene roared his displeasure and followed in the typical Hutt slither. He had enough of Ashanti Vende. She would die, or he would die trying to kill her. The universe was no longer big enough for the two of them. One had to go.

Ashanti ran pell-mell toward the sense of Qui-Gon she had. No other Force user could be felt within the building so the impostor who was with Qui-Gon was not a Jedi of any sort.

She careened around a corner and flipped over a human male brandishing a blaster. She turned in mid-air and landed next to her padawan. "In case you haven't figured it out, this isn't Hal Lim," she told her padawan breathlessly.

"Yeah, when I couldn't sense him and then he seemed impressed with my base level skill with a lightsaber, it gave me the idea." Qui-Gon stood by his master, towering over her a good foot and a half.

"Titainien," spat the impostor Hal Lim, turning his blaster on Ashanti, a malevolent gleam in his eye. "How one of your race became a Jedi I'll never understand. Nothing but trouble!" He fired and Ashanti blocked the bolt easily, making sure it deflected back to the impostor, but hitting the shoulder that was attached to the arm that held the blaster.

"Thanks!" she quipped, her tail lashing out, the spikes elongating slightly, a wet gleam to them. Qui-Gon watched in horror as the spikes scraped the impostor on his torso and he crumpled to the floor in shock. "The poison isn't that strong. Mild injection. I'd suggest you get out of Marteene's way before he..." Ashanti's words were cut off by Marteene's maddened roar.

"Uh, Master Ashanti?" questioned Qui-Gon nervously.

"You read my mind, padawan. Let's be gone!" The two Force sped back the way Qui-Gon and the impostor Hal Lim had come. As they ran they passed the carnage of Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

Ashanti halted to look. "That's gruesome, Qui-Gon," she stated pointing at the halved man.

Qui-Gon looked sheepish. "I got a little off-balance and as I compensated I missed his arm."

"I should say so!" exclaimed Ashanti. "Nice slice though. Good form."

"Qui-Gon Jinn! Ashanti Vende!" came Marteene's scream of rage.

"That's your cue to leave, padawan. Follow that corridor and keep left. You will eventually come to the room you need to get the documentation we need. I suggest keywords in the computer database until you find what we need. I'll hold off Mr. Fat and Fussy."

Qui-Gon nodded and bolted from his master at a good clip, his lightsaber at the ready should he meet more guards on the way to his destination.

Ashanti faced the Hutt as he came barreling around the corner. "Over here, you fat lazy worm!" Ashanti turned and ran at regular speed, dodging blaster bolts as she ran. Her lightsaber glowed deep purple, it's heat from the crystals within a comfort in her clawed hands. She allowed the Force to guide her to her destination, where ever that was, and hoped that Qui-Gon would manage okay.

Several corners and long corridors now filled with blaster bolt scars later, Ashanti faced Marteene the Hutt on a balcony. Her face was covered with her breathing mask, his was without. In his maddened rage, Marteene neglected to put one on. Ashanti could see that the atmosphere was already doing it's damage. It seemed that it didn't matter if you were supposedly in a protected environment, you were still affected.

Or maybe he's just insane, Ashanti thought to herself.

She dodged blaster bolts, slashing and blocking with her saber as she did so. Soon the Hutt was a mass of sliced parts, but still alive and vengeful. His tail swept out unexpectedly, and though the Force warned Ashanti, her sluggishness from the atmosphere slowed her reaction enough to knock her to her feet.

The Hutt pounced. With tail and strong legs, Ashanti boosted him over the edge, but he grabbed her tail as he went. She jerked her tail from his grasp, which gave him the leverage he needed to get a hold on the ledge of the balcony's elaborate decor.

Ashanti twisted herself back onto the safety of the balcony and looked down at the Hutt hanging precariously. "Do you want help?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be.

"Go to hell," spat the Hutt and he let go, plummeting.

Ashanti watched in rapt and morbid fascination as the Hutt fell. Nothing seemed to break his fall and she wondered if his mind was conjuring anything to do so.

Or did he want to die?

Something with her said that the cycle between she and he was broken.

She was thankful. Now Ashanti Vende could train Qui-Gon Jinn without the shadow of death from some crazed bounty hunter every time they turned around.

It was over. A new beginning with her padawan was looming on the horizon.

Ashanti Vende turned on her heel and went sprinting back the way she had come, looking for Qui-Gon Jinn.