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Son of the Empire

by MrsHamill (thamill@cox.net)

Archive:  MA and my site, Mom's Kitchen (www.squidge.org/~foxsden)
Category:  AU or AR or whatever - Not Your Grandmother's GFFA
Pairing:  Q/O
Rating:   NC-17
Summary:  In the face of a mutual threat, the Jedi must reconcile with the Sith, somehow.  Qui-Gon Jinn just may be the man to do it.
Disclaimer:  What, you think I own these guys?  Do I even look like George Lucas?  If this is not what you expected, please alter your expectations. No such thing as random coincidence. No such thing as too much lubricant.  
Warning:  Don't assume anything.  This is, after all, me you're reading. [g]  The spelling of Anakin is correct in this story -- yes, I changed it.
Series:  Not a chance in hell.
Notes:  This is the longest single story I've ever attempted; not only the longest but the most complex as well.  In a piece like this, a writer must have help, must have editors who can see past the story and into how it all hangs together, if it all hangs together, and I've been blessed by some wonderful friends who have helped beyond measure and who deserve more than my paltry thanks.  Claude, of course, who went through it painstakingly, paragraph by paragraph, in an attempt to make my writing readable.  Lisa, who gave me invaluable advice about pacing and characterization, who might yell at my mays, and I will get those brownies to you, promise!  Jax and Laura read it as it was being written and were the source of much thwaping and sharp prodding when I would have given up in disgust.  Lee Writestuff, one of the finest writers I know, was another who gave wonderful advice and well-timed smacks, and though she wanted it another way, she understood when I didn't quite follow her suggestions.  Christi and Lori batted clean-up, a thankless job but one that was achingly necessary, and Lori's comments made it immeasurably stronger.  For many reasons, this story is dedicated to Rita, in thanks that again aren't sufficient.  She is the reason why this thing has virtually no resemblance to the outline, and why it is probably much better than the story I would have originally written.  Thank you, my friends, you make me feel loved.

Oh, and note that any mistakes left over are my own.  I can't resist tweaking, I'm afraid.

CHAPTER ONE

Qui-Gon Jinn was bored.  

Being a Jedi Master did have some benefits and among them was the ability to mask outright boredom with a semblance of interest.  The two sides had been back and forth for several hours on the negotiations, tedious negotiations in which the Jedi representatives would speak to their translator who related their comments to the Empire's translator who then repeated everything to the Empress and her court.  Qui-Gon's mastery of her language wasn't complete but it was sufficient to render the interminable translating back and forth excruciating.

It didn't help that the Empress herself rarely spoke.  She left speaking up to her advisors, delegates and other minions, all of whom hovered around her and the table like flies to a corpse, darting in and out to make demands and ensure concessions.  The Jedi would then reply with their own demands -- gently stated but demands nonetheless.  Considering it was Qui-Gon's immediate future they were discussing, on one level he felt he really should take a larger interest in the proceedings.  He did not, though, knowing the Force would provide.  This posting had already been foreseen.  There was little he could do about it, other than accept his fate.  It wouldn't be so much a hardship; after all, he rarely felt at home even in the Temple on Selonia.

There was a child accompanying the Empress, one of her 'spare heirs': possibly the youngest one, though he had not been introduced, and all the Jedi knew were the names, not the genders.  He was a sunny child, with his mother's sky-blue eyes.  His hair was bright blond instead of light brown and touched with silver, as hers was.  At any rate, the little one looked to be about ten or so, and it quite amazed Qui-Gon that he had managed to stay still and attentive during the talks; he thought only Jedi children were capable of such stillness, and only then after long practice.  As they continued, however, Qui-Gon could see his edginess and sense his fight against fidgeting; he felt for the child, trapped in such dismal work on such a lovely day.  

When the boy sighed soundlessly -- Qui-Gon noticed the rise and fall of the ribcage -- and looked around the room again, Qui-Gon caught his gaze and smiled, mostly with his eyes.  A beard helped to conceal but did not cover everything and it would not do to show blatant inattentiveness.  The boy ducked his head quickly, but when he looked back, Qui-Gon was still smiling at him.  They continued as such for a short time, glancing away and then back, playing a surreptitious game of tag with each other's gaze.  Then the boy, with a quick glance around to ensure he wasn't seen, gave Qui-Gon an intent look and... wiggled his ears.

Barely able to keep the wide smile from breaking across his face, Qui-Gon lifted an eyebrow infinitesimally, then did his own glance around the room before wiggling his nose in reply.  The boy was clearly thrilled with the response and was barely able to contain himself successfully.  He was obviously a sweet child to be around -- his Force aura was all bright colors and good cheer -- and Qui-Gon thought perhaps his posting here in the Empire wouldn't be as bad as all that.  At least this child had life.

"Naum."

With a start, Qui-Gon jerked himself back to business.  The Empress had spoken... indeed, she had silenced everyone else in the room with her one word.  Naum meant yes, I agree, all is in accord and is done... could she be referring to the negotiations?  They were hardly through the first eight pages of the thirty-page document and she was agreeing?

Her sycophants looked shocked and the Jedi negotiators appeared stunned.  Two of the courtiers leaned in to whisper frantic questions, but she lifted one elegant hand and waved them away.  "Naum," she repeated.  She looked frostily at the man introduced as her First Minister, a man who was struggling to control what looked to be a lethal case of apoplexy as he questioned her pronouncement.  She replied to his questions in a soft, dangerous voice, though Qui-Gon could not hear the exact words she used.
  
After a few moments, the man -- an overdressed, overblown and self-important twit, in Qui-Gon's first impression -- bowed jerkily and turned to the Empire's translator, speaking rapidly in clipped and frigid tones.  "Her Exalted Majesty agrees to the terms of the Jedi contract," the translator said, stuttering slightly, "and wishes the negotiations to end."

"All of the terms?" Master Windu, senior Jedi councilor and chief negotiator of the Jedi team, looked as astonished as Qui-Gon felt, so astonished he actually directed his question to the Empire's translator, instead of his own, violating the protocol they'd been directed to use at the beginning of the talks.  "We've barely begun to discuss it!  And the treaty, we need to work on the treaty..."

The Empress turned her cold, blue eyes on Master Windu who actually cringed -- Qui-Gon saw it clearly and noted it in his brain as a first.  Master Windu feared nothing.

"I think we're fine here, Mace," Qui-Gon said quietly.  Windu jerked around to stare at Qui-Gon.  "If her Exalted Majesty is happy with the contract, then I am as well.  I can continue to work on the treaty later, after I've met with her and her ministers."

Windu looked at him as if he'd suddenly become an alien species.  "Qui-Gon!" he hissed, glancing at the Empress' retinue.  "You can't just..."

"I'm sure everything will be fine."  He looked over at the Empress' people and inclined his head, directing his comments to both her and her translator.  "If it is her Exalted Majesty's wish, then it is mine as well."

He could swear he saw a slight smile on her face, though it might have been his imagination.  

Within minutes then, rather than hours or even days, the contract was signed and Qui-Gon Jinn became the first Jedi in over a millennia to reside as an envoy in the court of the Empress of the Sith.  

While he was surprised to have been accorded such an honor, he was also wary, they had a long way to go if the Jedi and the Sith were to be once again united, which was the genuine purpose of his posting.  The real treaty negotiations to accomplish that would be his full-time job in the Empire, obviously.  When Mace and the others left the room -- and the world, the Jedi were leaving immediately -- Qui-Gon knew his fate was sealed.  He was alone, and would be alone in representing his Order to the Sith and against their mutual enemy, the threat from beyond their system which was growing stronger and closer every day.

It was about time.  He could hardly do any work with the Council breathing down his neck as usual.  At least here he could pretend to feel useful.

In a further breach of protocol -- though how could it be a breach when the Empress herself did it? -- the Empress waved all of them out after the elaborate ritual of signing and sealing.  She indicated her son and Qui-Gon should stay, however, which merely fed the strange fury in her senior aide.  It left the three of them alone in the echoing, ornate chamber, save for her omnipresent and ignored guards.

Once the room was so cleared, the Empress sat still and merely examined Qui-Gon from under a hooded stare.  He wasn't sure why, but he didn't feel uncomfortable under it.  Perhaps it was because the rumors had been quite correct; she was definitely sensitive to the Force, and had an aura brilliant with the promise of power.

It was the same, or perhaps even more, with her child, who broke the silence, finally, speaking in his high little-boy voice.  "Exalted Mother," he said softly, and she turned to him.  "I am unsure how to address the revered Jedi.  Will you give me your guidance?"

This time, the smile was definite, gentle and loving as she addressed her son.  "Anikin, you may treat the revered Jedi as a member of our close advisors.  As for his method of address, you will have to decide that with him.  As he is your elder in both experience and age, it is our recommendation you call him Master Jinn."

Oddly enough, Qui-Gon did not feel shocked over the Empress' words, spoken in a delicate voice which somehow belied her power and rank.  It was clear she had come to a decision regarding Qui-Gon during the negotiations, just as he was coming to conclusions about her.  He inclined his head again, bowing deeply from his seated position.  "I am honored to be so treated by her Exalted Majesty."  He chose his words carefully, aware of his limited knowledge with her language.  Once, Sith and Jedi spoke the same tongue; since the breach between them, the Jedi spoke only Basic.  "It is my hope that I can live up to the promise of our two peoples and unite us successfully against the common enemy."

"You may use Basic when you address us, Master Jinn," she said, and Qui-Gon winced internally.  He wasn't sure he had used the correct idiom. "Most of our court is competent."

"I thank your Exalted Majesty," Qui-Gon replied, relieved to be back in Basic, where he was assured of no verbal flub.  "It would undoubtedly help me to be immersed in your language, however.  I am certain my proficiency needs work."

"Your accent is quite clear, though you could use some work between formal and informal wording."  Anikin giggled and Qui-Gon smiled ruefully.  "It is our sincere wish to become better acquainted with our long-estranged brethren now living on Selonia.  To that end, it is our intention to grant you every courtesy and answer your every question."

Qui-Gon bowed again at those words, then cocked his head.  "May I be so bold as to take advantage of your largess to ask -- what made you cut the negotiations short?"

"Aside from the fact that it was excruciatingly boring?"  Anikin giggled again.  "It was your play with our son and heir."  She smiled gently at Anikin and smoothed his fine, blond hair from his face.  "Plus, we are used to making decisions based on our intuition, which has never been wrong."  She gave him another penetrating stare before speaking again.  "It is our wish our intuition will continue to be correct."

There was little Qui-Gon could say to that, so he merely bowed again.  "I will... endeavor to live up to the trust you have placed in me.  The threat of the Dhro to our system demands our cooperation, which I assure you is genuine, at least on my part."  Whether it was on the Council's part, he had no idea, and didn't care.  He knew what the Force intended for him.  The Dhro must be stopped, and he would do what he must to achieve that end.

"There are those in our court, including our First Minister, who would dispute that.  But regardless, your intentions are clear, as our intentions are as well.  Corellia is not a democracy and our wishes are still sacrosanct.  This alliance will form."

Qui-Gon blinked, able to hide his surprise at her words through long practice.  But his heart lightened, though he wasn't sure why.  "It is as you wish, Exalted Majesty," he murmured.

The Empress nodded, then touched a spot on the table.  Immediately, a page entered, stopping at attention next to her seat.  "Show Master Jinn to the quarters that have been prepared for him."  Turning back to her son, she added to him, "If you would like to accompany Master Jinn and show him a few of the secrets of our palace, now is the time to request it, Second Son."

With a sparkling smile, Anikin spoke rapidly.  "Exalted mother, may I be excused to accompany the revered Jedi to his quarters?"

"Yes, you may."  The Empress turned her smile to Qui-Gon.  "A page will be appointed to your service before the end of the day.  For the moment, it is our wish our son perform those duties.  He is young and needs more experience with the world outside our court."

Qui-Gon nodded and stood, bowing deeply in respect.  The Empress appeared to be everything he had expected, and then some.  He resigned himself to the interesting times ahead of him and followed the page from the room.

To his further surprise, Anikin stayed at his side rather than ahead of him, and almost looked as though he wanted to take his hand as they walked through the enormous palace together.  "I like you," the child said suddenly.

Qui-Gon looked down at Anikin and smiled.  He completely ignored the wrench in his heart at the boy's simple but heartfelt words.  "Thank you."  After a few more steps, he added, "I like you as well."  What made him say that, he had no idea.

"Mother says I should always follow my instincts, and my instincts are telling me you will be important to me, to us, and that you will help us."

Uncertain how privy Anikin was of the distant threat to their system, Qui-Gon settled for a bland agreement and nodding.  "I only hope it will be so." They walked for what felt like a couple of leagues and their path was such that Qui-Gon had no idea how to retrace it.  He nearly despaired at the idea of  becoming more familiar with the palace.  Glancing down at Anikin, he said dryly, "I believe I might need an activated homing beacon in order to find my way to my room."

Anikin giggled again, a lovely, happy sound, a sound he hadn't heard in too many years.  "You're staying in the private wing.  That's just for family and for high-ranking counselors.  It's an honor.  And I'll be glad to show you around, when my studies permit, of course," he added hastily.

"An honor indeed."  Qui-Gon blinked in surprise.  The private wing?

From around the curve ahead of them came the sound of running feet.  Shortly, two girls  pelted into view, one chasing the other.  They ran into Anikin, who grabbed the younger of the two girls.  "Mai, you're not supposed to be running in the palace," Anikin said with disapproval.  The other girl, older than them both, reinforced this with a frown.

"It's Cli's fault," the younger one said, ducking behind Anikin as the older girl made a grab for her.

"If you hadn't stolen my favorite hair comb, I wouldn't have chased you."  The older girl was Cliadle, then, the third in line for the throne, and the younger must be the youngest heir, Maisen.  

"You're lucky it was us and not Mam you ran into."  Anikin grabbed Maisen's arm and wrenched the offending comb out of her hand, returning it to Cliadle.  "Here.  You've all but offended our guest.  I think you should apologize."

"Ani, you are so full of yourself," Maisen said with a pout.  "I wanted it for my doll."

"Tough."

The older girl, Cliadle, studied Qui-Gon curiously during her siblings' exchange.  Finally, she dropped a small, though elegant, curtsey to him.  "You must be the revered Jedi.  I greet you with respect.  I am Cliadle, Third."  She was a dark-skinned and dark-haired girl on the verge of womanhood.  Her pale eyes -- of a color somewhere between gold and brown -- looked odd and exotic in her heart-shaped face.

Qui-Gon bowed deeply, hiding his astonishment.  It was strange but oddly comforting to see children behaving like children in this maze of protocol and palace, so unlike the quiet and well-trained initiates in the Temple.  "Your Grace.  I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn, at your service."  This was, at least, one occasion when he could speak their language without reservation.

The elbow Anikin shoved in his younger sister's ribs made her say, "Ow!  Ani..."  His frowning face, and Cliadle's, finally made her remember her place.  She dropped a poor curtsey and mumbled, "I greet you.  I am Maisen, Fifth."  She looked enough like Anikin to be his twin, save for the excess 'baby fat' still on her torso and her face.  The pout she affected looked as though it had been born there.

Smiling gently at the girl, Qui-Gon bowed again.  "At your service, your Grace."

"I apologize for my actions and those of my sister," Cliadle said, switching to Basic.  Qui-Gon noticed the scowl on Maisen's face.  "She is rather spoiled and we indulge her far too much."

"It is of no matter, your Grace."  Qui-Gon's smile became wider as he watched Maisen stomp away.  "I take it your sister is not conversant with my language?"

"She has been instructed to learn it, but has been... um... reticent."  Cliadle looked at Anikin.  "Where do you take Master Jinn, Younger Brother?"

"To his quarters, Elder Sister," Anikin replied.  "Our Exalted Mother has said Master Jinn is to be treated as her close advisor.  I am to be his help until a suitable page is found for him."

"May I accompany you?"  Cliadle smiled winningly at Qui-Gon.  "When I learned Jedi were to come here, I admit to a certain amount of excitement."

"Of a certainty, your Grace," Qui-Gon replied.  The page began walking again, and they followed.  Qui-Gon offered Cliadle his arm, and with an impish smile, she took it.  This one would break some hearts soon, Qui-Gon thought sadly, if she wasn't doing so already.

Anikin gave his sister a teasing look.  "Cliadle is our resident scholar, Master Jinn.  We have to hide books around her, or else she'll pounce."  Cliadle scowled briefly at her brother, then stuck out her tongue.

Their banter was honest and open, and made Qui-Gon feel strange.  He had expected the Empress' court would be filled with intrigue and backstabbing, given what the Jedi knew of the Sith.  Instead, he found an obviously loving family and an Empress who seemed far more interesting and perceptive than his wildest imaginings.  He once again compared the two heirs with the regimented and silent initiates at the Temple, then resolutely put the image away.

The two heirs took their tour-guide duties seriously, pointing out and explaining side-corridors as they walked, indicating this entire wing was reserved as private quarters for the royal family.  Eventually, the page came to a set of ornate doors, which he pushed open.  Cliadle dismissed the boy and he left without a word.  "Our Exalted Mother has assigned you the quarters once occupied by her first consort," Cliadle said.  They were in a small but comfortable sitting room, with three doors, on either side of the room and opposite the front door.  Cliadle threw open all three, revealing a bedroom, piled with Qui-Gon's luggage, a 'fresher that looked huge and decadent, and a small balcony overlooking an interior garden.  The main room was high-ceilinged and airy, with comfortable, overstuffed furniture, and a small alcove to one side, which looked to function as a rudimentary office.  There was a huge basket of fruit on a side table.  Qui-Gon remembered the Jedi Temple, with its cold austerity, and looked about the room with satisfaction.  It was not lavish, but it looked exceedingly comfortable.

"If I may be so bold," Anikin said, and Qui-Gon turned to the boy.  "I would ask a question?"

"You must feel free to ask me anything at any time, your Grace."  He forced a smile to both of them, still feeling strangely uncomfortable around their openness.  "How else are we to learn about each other?"

"I would be pleased if you would call me by my name," Anikin said quickly.  "Well, except in those cases where Mam -- I mean, my Exalted Mother -- says it's impossible.  You know those times, I think."

"Yes, I believe I do."  Something, perhaps the Force, made him continue, "It would please me greatly to be considered your friend, Anikin."  Qui-Gon glanced over at Cliadle, who was smiling shyly, including her with his words.  "Just as it would please me for you to help me with your language.  I'm afraid I'm not at all proficient."

Anikin giggled again.  "You used the wrong idiom when you spoke with Mother earlier."  Cliadle's eyes widened and she hid her smile behind her hand at Anikin's words.  "But it's all right, since we were alone.  We'll be glad to help you.  It's not that hard anyway, despite what Mai says."

"Thank you."  Qui-Gon felt the rightness in their exchange, and how the Force was pleased with his friendship with these children.  It was something he'd have to examine in detail... later.  He raised an eyebrow at Anikin.  "This would be a good time to ask that question, Anikin."

"Oh!"  It was Cliadle's turn to giggle and Anikin rolled his eyes at her.  Qui-Gon masked his amusement by examining the fruit in the basket and pulling a few pieces out.  "It's about your name, Master Jinn.  What royal house are you a part of?"

Qui-Gon blinked in confusion.  Absently, he held out a handful of berries to the children and Anikin took a few before bouncing on the sofa.  "I don't think I understand, Anikin.  What do you mean?"

"Mother said your name was Qui-Gon Jinn," Anikin said around a mouthful of berry.

"Ani, don't talk with your mouth full," Cliadle said, taking one of the berries offered.  She laughed at Anikin's face.  "I know what he means, Master Jinn.  What house denotes Gon?"

Qui-Gon was mystified, and had no problem showing it.  "There are many gaps in our understanding of Sith royalty," Qui-Gon said slowly, "and this may be one of them.  Why would part of my name mean a royal house?"

"It's just your name?" Anikin swallowed hastily and his blue, surprised eyes turned to Qui-Gon.  "You mean, you were born with it?"

"Yes."  Qui-Gon looked between them and smiled in confusion.  "Tell me why that's surprising to you."

"Our Exalted Mother was born Adilene of the clan Kenobi."  Cliadle took a seat next to Anikin, decorously arranging her skirts around her, and Qui-Gon, after re-filling his hand with berries, sat opposite them.  "When she was elevated to Empress, her name changed to denote the royal house of Wan -- Adi-Wan.  We're all members of the dynasty of Wan.  When our eldest brother, Obion, is elevated to Emperor, he will become Obi-Wan."

"His clan stays the same, though."  Anikin was making serious in-roads on the fruit and Qui-Gon found himself smiling -- it had been a long time since he'd been around small boys, but he did remember their perpetual hunger.  "Because him and Aliamon had the same father."

"'He' and Ali had the same father," Cliadle corrected him absently.  "And that's not the only reason, Anikin, you're a member of Clan Kenobi too, you know, as I am.  It's blood ties to the clan, Master Jinn.  Mother's first consort was a distant cousin from the Kenobi clan, so Obi and Ali are doubled through both our mother and their father."  She cocked her head at Qui-Gon, obviously intrigued by his differences.  "Jedi don't have the same thing?  Who is your ruler?"

"We don't have one, actually."  For convenience, he brought the basket of fruit closer so he and Anikin could better pick at it.  "The Jedi are ruled by council, a council of thirteen.  When a member of the council dies or retires, we have an election to choose another to take his or her place."

"Really?"  Cliadle's fingers twitched, as though she wanted a stylus to write with. Anikin obviously had more interest in eating than in the discussion.  "How very odd."

"Just as your ways seem odd to me."  Qui-Gon smiled at her, realizing he'd found a kindred spirit in the girl.  "There is much different between our peoples, now.  I look forward to discussing the differences in our ways, your Grace."

"Oh, please, just call me Cli.  Everybody does."  She blushed prettily, though it was difficult to tell clearly under her dusky coloring.  "I've never met a Jedi before.  Did you bring any books with you?"

Anikin made a snorting noise.  "Don't lend them to her," he whispered loudly to Qui-Gon.  "You'll never get them back."

"Ani!"  

Cliadle sounded scandalized but Qui-Gon merely chuckled.  "I'll be sure to embed one of those homing beacons in them," he whispered back, winking at Cliadle.  

A possible squabble between the heirs was cut short by a knock at the door.  Qui-Gon turned and bid the caller enter, only realizing he had used Basic after the door opened.  He stood as a liveried servant entered the room, bowing deeply to all.

"I am Jaydon Matrin, Seneschal of the Empress, revered Jedi.  I have come to discuss your serving needs and to remind certain persons they are late for dancing and history lessons."

Both heirs groaned, Anikin more theatrically than his sister.  "I hate history," he groused before shoving three last berries in his mouth and bouncing to his feet.  The boy seemed purely incapable of moving without bouncing in some manner.

"I hate dancing," Cliadle said with a sigh.  "Thank you, Jay."

"You are most welcome, your Grace.  Hurry now."  The Seneschal looked after the children's departure with amused fondness, closing the door after them.  "I see they've managed to eat most of your fruit, revered Jedi."

"It was mostly Anikin, actually, and please, call me Qui-Gon."  The Seneschal had been at the talks earlier in the day, though he had stayed mostly silent.  He was a tall, lean man with a thick shock of red hair, feathered with gray, and green eyes.  In his exchange with Anikin and Cliadle, he appeared to be a caring man who had a good rapport with the children.  Qui-Gon could sense no real Force aura from him at all, other than the faint echo all living things had.

He bowed again at Qui-Gon's words.  "As it pleases you, I should keep to 'Master Jinn' at the most informal.  It helps keep the younger ones in line."

Qui-Gon chuckled.  "I can understand that, Seneschal."

"In private though..." They both smiled, obviously in accord.  Qui-Gon wondered if he were Force-blind; the faint echo he felt seemed to be tinged by calm efficiency and good cheer.  "I am Jay.  Should you have need of anything, my code is three zeros on the teleunit."  He motioned to the small array of electronics in the office niche; Qui-Gon would have called it a dataset.  "That is one of the things I needed to tell you.  Her Exalted Majesty has asked you be accorded the rights and privileges of one of her senior, personal aides.  This rank comes with a page, a secretary and a personal valet.  Since you have brought none of them with you, we will be happy to provide."

Wincing, Qui-Gon took a deep breath.  "I'd rather do without the valet, if possible.  I'm not at all used to it, and would probably find it more of an irritation than a convenience."

It was obviously the right thing to say; the Seneschal nodded, his approval clear in his gaze.  "Quite possible, yes.  I would, however, advise you to accept the secretary and the page, at least until you're more comfortable with our ways."

"That's good advice.  Thank you."  Qui-Gon motioned for the man to sit as he regained his seat across from the sofa.  "Do I have to interview?  Or will you appoint someone?"

"I already have a good page in mind, and as for secretary... there's no hurry.  Tomorrow, perhaps."  Seneschal Matrin smiled.  "I think you have enough to do in order to settle in without worrying about interviewing a secretary."

"Thank you."  Qui-Gon was deeply and honestly thankful, and with a start realized he already liked the man.  "I know there are things I must learn..."

They talked for well over an hour.  The Seneschal lived up to Qui-Gon's first impression of him by being candid in his description of the palace and its denizens.  While he never outright praised or condemned anyone, Qui-Gon could read between the lines and draw his own conclusions.  Eventually, he would decide whether he agreed with the Seneschal or not.

Among the things discussed were meals, including the 'family breakfasts' the Empress scheduled at least five days out of ten.  This was her chance to meet with her children, to assess them and their learning, and to let them be as close to an ordinary family as possible for a brief time.  While others in the palace weren't specifically excluded, for the most part, they were invited only rarely.    

When dinners were not affairs of state, they were taken in the smaller dining room (small in that it only held one hundred people), and attendance was mandatory.  The Seneschal questioned him about his clothing and told him if he wished to dress in anything other than the brown and cream of the Jedi he was to let the Seneschal know.  

Qui-Gon's request for a scorecard with people's names, rank and degree of current favor was met with sympathetic laughter.

Before they had quite finished, there was another tap on the half-open door.  This time, it was a young man who bowed deeply to both Qui-Gon and the Seneschal.  "Ah, Terrell.  Master Jinn, this is Terrell Benk.  I believe Terrell will be ideally suited to your service as a page."  

Squashing his first impulse, which was to bow, Qui-Gon settled for inclining his head.  The young man was in his late teens or very early twenties, had dark hair pulled back into a neat tail, and was considerably shorter than both the Seneschal and Qui-Gon.  He was wearing the livery of the Empire -- the black and dark purple of the Empire of the Sith.  He had a slight smile playing about his mouth and his eyes were dark and merry.  "At your service, revered Jedi."

"Please, Terrell, if we are to work together, you must call me Master Jinn.  Not only am I unused to having a page, I am uncomfortable with any other title."  

Yes, that was definitely a cheeky grin trying to get out.  Qui-Gon suspected he would enjoy working with the young man.  "As you wish, Master Jinn."

"Terrell will show you how to access your schedule which, I'm certain, has already been set up with requests from various nobles."  The Seneschal stood and brushed non-existent dust from his uniform trousers.  "If you have any problems with him, please feel free to call me.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have other matters to attend to."  He smiled at Qui-Gon and bowed.  "It has been a pleasure, Master Jinn."

The sincerity in those words both pleased and relieved Qui-Gon, as he smiled and bowed back.  Despite the surety of his path, Qui-Gon had never been in such a tricky situation before.  All the diplomatic experience in his life still ill-prepared him for becoming the first ambassador to the court of the Jedi's ancient enemies.  He did not want to make any mistakes, not only for his not-inconsiderable pride but because the situation was of the utmost urgency.

Terrell proved to be a great help to him, especially in his next adventure: dinner with the royal family.

The small dining room was only half-filled for this dinner, the first of many.  Terrell brought him to the door and promised to be in the same location whenever he finished, something that reassured Qui-Gon tremendously.  Mentally girding his loins, he took a deep breath and entered.

Thankfully, place markers had been set at each chair.  He found his place quickly, though he did not sit down.  The Empress was not yet present, and those in the room were gathered in small knots, some drinking aperitifs and others merely talking.  Anikin saw him and pulled him over to a group of younger people.  "Master Jinn, you have to come meet my sister and everyone!"

There were several younger people in the group, and Qui-Gon was subjected to a dizzying array of names and faces, curtsies and bows.  Some of the young people, it turned out, were the children of the courtiers and nobles, those who had close association with the Empress and/or the heirs.  Maisen was conspicuous by her absence, and Qui-Gon thought she might still be considered too young for formal dinners.  Anikin was the youngest one in the group.

A willowy, ginger-haired beauty stood apart from them, and as Anikin wound down, she approached.  Her stare was aloof but not cold.  "You must be our new pet Jedi," she said in her own language.  Both Anikin and Cliadle frowned at her.  Two or three of the others tittered.  "I am Aliamon, Second."

Qui-Gon bowed deeply.  "Qui-Gon Jinn, at your service, your Grace.  It is an honor to meet you."  Aliamon had her mother's porcelain complexion and blue eyes, but her hair -- piled artfully on her head in a heap of coppery curls -- was clearly from her father's side.  Her dress was simple but the fabric must have cost a small fortune.

"Ali, that was hardly polite."  Cliadle frowned at her sister, though she spoke very softly, and in Basic.  "Master Jinn should have your respect."

Aliamon gave her sister a bland stare and replied in her own language.  "Respect must be earned, Younger Sister.  Inappropriate familiarity can breed enmity."

"Your sister is quite correct," Qui-Gon said, smiling warmly at Cliadle.  He used her language, hoping he had the correct idiom.  "Our two peoples have been divided for generations.  For this reconciliation to work successfully, we need to learn each other once again, and we must take care in the doing so."

"Well spoken, for a Jedi."  The male voice held just barely enough bored flippancy to be not quite insulting, and Qui-Gon turned.  A lovely young man with long, white-blond hair worn in a tail smirked over the top of his glass.  He was one of the minor nobles or perhaps the son of a trusted councilor, Qui-Gon couldn't recall from the whirlwind introductions.  He was quick to notice, however, where the man's darting gaze continually aimed and realized the barb had been meant to win favor from Aliamon.

It didn't seem to work.  "Master Jinn is a diplomat," she said, with a fleeting and dismissive glance at the young man who spoke.  "I would expect nothing less from such a man."

"Very well said, Younger Sister," said a cultured, honeyed, beautiful voice and Qui-Gon turned to see a young man who could have been Aliamon's twin, save he was obviously older.  "The Jedi have long been the enemies of the Sith.  We would do well to guard our tongues around them, if nothing else."

Qui-Gon blinked; was that the heir?  He must be, Qui-Gon thought.  He was a bit taller than Aliamon and his eyes looked more gray or green.  His hair, the same color as hers, was shoulder-length and caught in a neat tail.  His beauty was definitely masculine; he carried himself regally and those intense eyes glittered.  He was well-built and appeared to be strong, the kind of whipcord strength that comes from physical exertion.  This was no pampered pet, then, but a young man who knew the benefits of work and who practiced it every day.  Qui-Gon tamped down a frisson of desire.

Aliamon had a slight frown on her face.  "I do not think we should go quite that far, Eldest Brother.  He is, after all, a guest in our home."

"A guest, of course, but guests have been known to betray their hosts."  

Beautiful his voice might be, but it was also quite hard.  It was obvious from his words and tone he did not agree to the Jedi presence in the palace, or even on Corellia.  Qui-Gon bowed deeply.  "I assure you, your Highness, your Grace, my intentions are focused solely on the peaceful rejoining of our two peoples, especially against our mutual threat."  He spread his hands.  "It behooves us all to unite against a common foe, does it not?"

Aliamon nodded, though her face was bleak.  "I agree.  I look forward to being able to converse with you more freely, Master Jinn."

"As your Grace wishes.  I am at your command."  Qui-Gon bowed again, glancing up as the low-key babble in the room silenced.  The Empress entered, followed by her retinue, which Obion joined.  Also entering was her First Minister, though Qui-Gon couldn't remember the man's name -- something that started with a 'P', he thought.  People began heading for their seats as the Empress moved towards hers.  Qui-Gon had already noticed, with some surprise, that his place was basically at her left hand.

Obion pulled out her chair and she sat, followed by everyone else sitting at their assigned place.  Once the rustling stopped, Qui-Gon glanced around.  At the head of the table was the Empress and her heir; Qui-Gon was sitting at his left.  Across from Qui-Gon was the unhappy looking First Minister, an older, distinguished-looking man.  The heir didn't look happy, but neither did he look sad.  His face was utterly closed.  He must have gotten his bland expression from his mother... the Empress' face was as devoid of emotion as a marble statue.

A small glass rested on everyone's plate, filled with a small amount of a dark amber fluid.  The Empress rose and lifted her glass, and Qui-Gon was surprised to note no one else stood, though everyone picked up their glass.

"Millennia ago, Sith and Jedi were one people.  We resided here on Corellia in peace and in bounty, enjoying the fruits of our labors."  The Empress' voice was smooth and calm.

"Then our Jedi brethren left us to reside on Selonia -- always a part of us, but living apart from us."  Qui-Gon smiled to himself; such a lovely, politically neutral way of describing the enormous rift between Jedi and Sith.  "We are glad that as of today, the first steps have been taken across the chasm of cold space to rejoin our peoples.  It is our sincere hope these efforts will continue, and one day, soon, Sith and Jedi will again be as one.  Master Qui-Gon Jinn of the Jedi has been chosen to reside here, to facilitate that end, and we drink to him, and to the reconciliation of our long-lost brethren on Selonia."  In a quick, elegant gesture, she lifted and drained her glass.  Everyone followed suit.

The liqueur in the glass was pungent and smoky and slid down Qui-Gon's throat like a strip of hot satin.  He could tell why the amount was small, though -- like satin in his throat it might feel, but hammer in his head it most definitely was.  

Once the toast was over, servants descended on the diners with extreme efficiency, pouring wine and bringing out the first course, a light soup.  This was, at least, a situation where Qui-Gon felt at home.  The rules and etiquette for such situations, at least when dealing with humans, were in large part the same galaxy-wide.  Anything he was unsure of he could always watch others for.

The courses flowed smoothly, though Qui-Gon wondered about the stillness at the table.  He felt it might be due to the Empress being very quiet herself, and indeed, during the main course, when she looked up and began to speak again, a murmur arose over the whole table.

"How are you settling in, revered Jedi?" she asked, her voice quiet but carrying.  

Qui-Gon sent a silent thank-you to the Force that she spoke in Basic.  "Very well indeed, Exalted Majesty.  I thank you for your hospitality and kindness, and for that of your very efficient staff."

"It pleases us to hear that.  Your presence will be required tomorrow for an initial consultation.  Your schedule will indicate the time and place, and your page will guide you."  The Empress was studiously ignoring the scowling face of her minister.  "It is our understanding you have met all the heirs but the First, who is seated next to you.  Our son and Heir, Obion."

Bowing while still seated, Qui-Gon smiled.  "I met his Highness just before dinner, informally.  I am at your service, Highness."

Obion turned to look Qui-Gon full in the face and Qui-Gon felt a shock of something go through him.  The heir was at least as Force-sensitive as his mother and half-brother, if not more so. He nodded briefly to Qui-Gon, then turned back to moving his dinner around on his plate; he'd barely touched anything at all, and was obviously preoccupied.  The Empress had turned to speak to someone else, and under the pretext of paying attention to his food, Qui-Gon sought his calm center.  When he looked up again, he was able to see Obion's Force aura, which made him frown and lose concentration.  Obion's Force aura was blue-green, mostly rich and calming, but there was definitely something dimming it, or perhaps something impinging on it.  There were streaks where energy appeared to be sapped or darkened.

Absently, Qui-Gon reached for his goblet of wine to take his first sip.  The goblet was halfway to his mouth when he froze, as the Force all but shrieked in his ear.  Barely hiding his surprise, he put the glass back down and glanced around the table.  Neither the Empress nor her heir had sipped their wine yet, though Obion was absently toying with the goblet as though he were intending upon a taste.  

Clearing his throat, Qui-Gon spoke as calmly and quietly as he could, given that he knew he was interrupting the Empress.  "Exalted Majesty."  When she glanced at him with a frown, Qui-Gon realized Obion was about to lift his glass.  He reached out and stopped the motion, putting his hand over the top of the glass.  "Do you have a food tester?"

To his surprise, he saw the Empress startle at his words.  Obion was looking at him as well, a frown on his face.  Luckily, no one else at the table had noticed, save for the First Minister, with whom the Empress had been speaking.  He looked appalled and angry and Qui-Gon didn't know if it was at the intrusion or at the question itself.

The Empress touched a spot on the table and the strangest man Qui-Gon had ever seen materialized behind her.  Qui-Gon blinked -- the man seemed to have appeared literally out of nowhere, though he had to have been in the room in order to appear so rapidly.

"Maul..."  The Empress breathed, and Qui-Gon's eyes widened.  So this was the strange, alien bodyguard everyone spoke of.  He was a sight, to be sure; his ebony skin was marked with strange, red patterns which were possibly tattoos, and his eyes were golden-orange.  There were small, round, bare patches on his bald head which looked a bit like bone or horn.  He looked at Qui-Gon, his peculiar eyes coldly assessing, even as he separated some small paper strips from a larger pad and dipped one each into the glasses.  The first one went into the Empress' glass, the second into Obion's and the third into Qui-Gon's.

The papers he dipped into Obion's and Qui-Gon's turned color, becoming a rather lurid dark purple.  The Empress' was unaltered.

"Your Highness, have you tasted?" Maul murmured.  His voice was a smooth, cultured tenor, totally at odds with his looks.

Obion appeared to be tightly and utterly furious, holding it in by dint of will.  "No."

Qui-Gon shook his head in the negative when Maul glanced at him.  The minister, who had seen everything, suddenly spoke up.  "I have!"  Maul raised his eyebrow and glanced at the Empress, who nodded slightly.  The minister's wine was tested and was fine.

By this time, everyone at the table was looking towards them, various forms of shock on their faces.  At some sign Qui-Gon missed, probably from Maul, servants rushed in and removed everyone's glass, whether tasted or not.  No one else demanded their beverage be tested, though Qui-Gon suspected Maul would find a way to test every heir's drink.  

Anikin, who was sitting across from Qui-Gon and three seats down, turned wide, panicked eyes to the head of the table.  "Exalted Mother?"  His voice was calmer than his eyes, and his mother smiled gently in approval.  

"We are fine.  The chief of security has everything in hand."  With that, she began to eat again, and after a moment, everyone followed suit.

It was with effort that Qui-Gon turned back to eating, silently thanking the Force for its warning.  When he glanced up, he saw two pairs of eyes, one blue, the other more green, focused on him.  "How did you know?" Obion asked, his voice very soft, his expression suspicious.  His mother's face silently asked the same question.

Qui-Gon was on the verge of responding honestly, when he paused.  Part of the reason why the Sith and the Jedi were estranged was due to the Force: how it was perceived and used.  Force manipulation or open Force use was illegal in the Empire, although it was obvious to him that nearly everyone in the royal family were Force-sensitive and unconsciously used it every day.  Even the Empress had made a comment about her 'intuition.'

Perhaps that was his way out of this mess, then.

"I... can only say that I am, as your Exalted Mother has said she is, used to following my intuition.  And I daresay I have a very keen sense of smell."  That was true, though it was not what gave him the warning.

"We are grateful for both your sense of smell and your 'intuition,' Master Jinn."  The Empress' eyes said even more, though her eldest son's eyes showed only confusion.  

Bowing from his seat again, Qui-Gon picked up his fork.

The rest of dinner was strange.  The conversation in the room was strained and bordering on frantic at times, and it appeared the only one having a good time was the aged dowager who was quite deaf and so had missed the entire affair.

Immediately after dinner, the Empress left the room, with her heir and Maul following closely.  Unfortunately, the other dinner guests all seemed to descend on Qui-Gon, with questions, with feigned interest, with even with outright flirting.  Qui-Gon suspected part of it was due to his placement at dinner rather than the attempted poisoning.  The minister left in a huff shortly after the Empress did.  He glared at Qui-Gon all the way out the door.

The other courtiers were much less angry, and two of them were rather cloying.  The white-haired young man, who introduced himself as Bruck Chun, must have decided an alliance with Qui-Gon would better serve to garner favor with Aliamon.  She didn't seem to care, though, and stood aloof from the crowd, watching everyone but not participating.  Qui-Gon found himself stuck between Chun and a quite lovely young lady by the name of Siri, and to his amusement, it appeared both she and Chun had a willingness to spend the evening with him.

Qui-Gon had been a diplomat for many long years, and knew how to extricate himself from such a situation.  He did so with gallant ease, leaving the young people bemused and wondering what had happened to their plans for the evening.  Still smiling, Qui-Gon made it to the hallway, where Terrell waited, to his relief.

"I should very much like to learn how you did that," a soft, familiar voice said... Aliamon.

"It would be my honor and pleasure to help you, your Grace.  Though I find it difficult to believe you don't know how to do it."  They were speaking in Basic, thankfully.  Qui-Gon offered his arm to Aliamon, who took it after a moment's hesitation.  Terrell led them away.

"Don't know how?  I suppose I do, after a fashion."  She easily kept up with his stride.  "Do it well, though, I fear not.  Normally, of course, it doesn't matter if I do it well or if I am clumsy at it."

"It would be difficult for someone to cry insult against an heir to the throne, I imagine," Qui-Gon said, his voice droll.

He heard her smile in her voice.  "It is an unexpected benefit."  They walked on through the ornate hallway.  "But I do believe I shall have to take lessons from you, as ammunition against the worst happening."

Well, there was the answer to one question.  At least the eldest heirs were aware of the real reason for the nascent treaty and Qui-Gon's presence in the Empire: the threat of the Dhro to their system and the galaxy.  She obviously understood that Corellia would come under attack some day soon, and further, what that attack might bring.  He patted her hand and spoke as sincerely as he could.  "Were we only faced with something as dangerous as an overgrown garden, I would still take delight in helping you, your Grace.  You have but to ask."

At his words, he felt rather than saw something thaw in the girl who had his arm.  "Thank you."  

Absently, Qui-Gon wondered what had caused the change in her thinking.  Before dinner, it appeared as though she were intending on keeping a distance between them.  Now...  He suspected it might be something to do with the 'incident' at dinner, though he was loath to ask.  He had a feeling what happened would stay with him for a while.  Strange; he'd been in the Empire for less than a day, yet already felt as though he were home.

"I must leave you here," Aliamon said, stopping at a cross-corridor.  

Qui-Gon released her hand, bending over it briefly.  "I thank you for the company, and look forward to seeing you again, your Grace."

"Thank you, Master Jinn; thank you for everything."  The look she gave him was shrewd, and he clearly saw her mother in it.  "One does not wish to be elevated in rank in such a precipitous manner.  Your actions this evening were appreciated."  She dropped a minimal curtsey, her back perfectly straight.  

He bowed deeply in return, then watched her walk down the hall before turning back to Terrell.  His page, he found, was giving him a speculative look.  "Yes?"

"Thank you," the young man said.  His eyes were very serious.  "When Ja-- Sir Matrin asked me to volunteer for this duty, I thought it was going to be interesting."  He swallowed, then turned, leading Qui-Gon on down the hall.  "I think I was right."

Unsure how to respond, Qui-Gon let it go.  He knew the type of information net that existed in the back halls of any place like the palace, and was unsurprised Terrell knew about what had happened.  By this time, every staff person inhabiting this warren would know, which Qui-Gon realized could serve to his advantage.

"Terrell," he said, and the young man paused, turning towards him.  Qui-Gon indicated they should keep walking, though he kept Terrell was at his side instead of ahead of him as he spoke, softly. "I would appreciate it if you could keep me informed of the... goings on in the palace.  I don't want to intrude or eavesdrop, but it would help me immeasurably if I knew who was in favor and who was not."

The grin Qui-Gon had noticed before in Terrell was trying to break through.  "I can do that, M'lor -- Master Jinn.  It's hard enough for me to figure out and I've been in the palace my whole life!"

Terrell opened the doors to his suite and offered to pull up his calendar, which was a kindness, since all Qui-Gon wanted was to get out of his boots and into something more comfortable.  "Sir Matrin has reserved a block of time an hour after breakfast, Master Jinn," Terrell reported, "but you have no appointments scheduled before then.  There have been several inquiries, though.  Shall I have your breakfast brought here?"

"Yes, thank you, Terrell."  Qui-Gon removed his heavy utility belt and draped it over the back of the sofa.  "Just fruit and bread, I think.  Can you get me some tea?"

"I'm certain I can, Master Jinn.  In fact, I can have one of the kitchen staff bring you an assortment tonight, along with a portable water heater, if you'd like."

"Marvelous."  Carefully, Qui-Gon draped his stola over his belt.  "That would be wonderful."

"Consider it done."  He bowed formally.  "If you don't require anything else of me, Sir, I'll be going for the night."

"No, that's fine.  Thank you very much for your help today, Terrell.  I can already tell you'll be indispensable to me very soon."

Terrell's wide, sunny grin was his reply as Terrell left the room.  With a sigh, Qui-Gon stood and stretched, then picked up his equipment and took it to his bedroom.  He was wrapped in his robe and ensconced on the sofa with a reader (he had been plowing through Interactions Between Jedi and Sith: A History and was nearly finished) when there was a diffident knock.  "Come," he called, and the door was opened by a small girl laden with a large tray.

Hastily gaining his feet, he relieved the girl of her burden, which turned out to be several tins of various kinds of tea, a portable water heater and four large mugs.  She looked surprised when he helped her get it all to the sideboard, but merely dropped a curtsey and fled when he tried to speak to her.  Chuckling, he shook his head and opened the teas, sniffing each.

Most were blends he was familiar with and he found their pungent aromas soothing, reassuring him of their freshness.  One was unfamiliar, but smelled delightful, so he filled the carafe and set it heating.  Before it boiled, the dataset -- the teleunit, he corrected himself sternly -- pinged.

It took him a moment to work the unfamiliar controls before he suddenly found himself facing the entire, seated Council on Selonia.  The 3D screen was small but had excellent quality, which meant he could, unfortunately, see every wrinkle in Councilor Windu's face as he scowled.

Qui-Gon bowed in his seat.  "I was not expecting this call; my greetings to you, Councilors."

"Obviously," Windu replied, his scowl deepening as he looked at Qui-Gon.

Keeping his voice bland, Qui-Gon acknowledged his lack of Jedi tunics.  "I am grateful to know my superiors have returned to Selonia safely, and remind you that while it is late afternoon at the Temple, I was just composing myself for bed here on Corellia."

He didn't miss the quick glance Depa Billaba gave Windu.  While the lovely, dark-haired woman had been Windu's padawan, she had often disagreed with him, and so was considered an independent thinker.  "We're aware of that, Master Jinn, and hope we haven't disturbed you.  We were hoping for more information on the precipitous acquiescence of the Empress to our contract.  Have you spoken with her yet?"

"Only briefly, Master Billaba, and at dinner, not alone."  He sighed, then steepled his fingers together.  "To my consternation, I was able to foil an attempt at poisoning the Heir and myself at dinner."  The Council seemed completely taken aback at that, and even Windu looked surprised.  "I have yet to determine the ramifications of that action, though after I meet privately with Her Exalted Majesty I'm sure I will know better."

It appeared the Council had no words about his revelation, so he continued.  "I have, however, met all of the Empress' children, and find myself almost astonished at them."

"How so?"

Qui-Gon turned his head to meet Councilor Ka'Ran Da's intense gaze.  He was sitting forward, as were several other Councilors who hadn't been to Corellia, intent on Qui-Gon's report.  Qui-Gon chose his words with care, cognizant that his transmission was most certainly tapped.  "All I can say is, I was not expecting a happy, well-adjusted family, which is what I seem to have found here.  The Empress obviously cares deeply for her family, as much as she does for her world.  And they care for her.  The rumors we have heard about their specific sensitivity also seem correct, to a remarkable degree."  He wasn't going to say the word, just in case, but alluding to it would serve.

Windu was nodding, his eyes narrow.  "I noticed it as well.  Remember the specific laws of the Empire, Master Jinn, and see to it you do not break any."

Trying his best to ignore the testiness Windu's words woke in him, Qui-Gon merely smiled tightly.  "I am fully aware of my limitations here, Master Windu."  What had he ever seen in Windu to indicate the man was more than merely human?

"Good.  Remain that way."  It was far easier with an inter-world transmission to hide his disgust at being treated like a first-year padawan.  Since their aborted love affair many years before, Windu had been increasingly acerbic towards him, to the extent that it occasionally bordered on outright hostility.  This seemed to be one of the occasions, for Windu was even more unpleasant than usual.  "We will require status reports on the treaty situation bi-weekly."

It was all Qui-Gon could do to keep from rolling his eyes.  "I will keep the Council updated as events occur," he said, still trying to keep his voice mild.  "If that means bi-weekly or even more frequently, fine.  If it means bi-monthly, that is what I will do.  I see no need to update the Council if there is no change in status to report."

Over Windu's immediate objection, Depa Billaba said, "That will be acceptable, I'm sure."  When Windu turned his glare on her, she met it with a set expression.  "Please keep us up-to-date as you see fit," she added, looking at Windu, but obviously directing her words at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon bowed.  "I will keep the Council informed as often as possible.  I do not yet know my duties, if any, here, though I am told that tomorrow will be a busy day for me.  I thank the Council for their trust in me and for assigning me this most interesting post."

The transmission finally ended, and Qui-Gon sat back in his chair with a groan.  So much for diplomacy; he could tell that his reputation for heresy was definitely confirmed by that meeting.  Closing his eyes for a moment, he tried to remember back when he was young, when he was sick and tired of the regimented, ordered ranks of Jedi and their release of all emotions to the Force.  Tried to think back to the time when he had been in love with Mace Windu.  When he had thought he had been in love with Mace Windu, he amended internally.

It was true; the Temple had never been home to him.  He knew what was expected of him, but couldn't do it, couldn't release the emotions that felt so important to the Force.  The Force had always agreed with him, but no one else ever seemed to notice.  He was alone in a Temple filled with unfeeling droids who seemed bent on rejecting everything he found fine in the universe.

The water had all boiled away, and the portable heater had shut itself off.  Finding himself no longer in the mood for tea or reading, Qui-Gon dimmed the lights in the main room and walked out onto the small balcony.  It was dark and quiet, but the stars weren't visible through the chromatic swirl of the particle shield that protected the Empire's capital city.  Light pollution often prevented him from seeing more than the brightest stars from the Temple on Selonia, but he could always see a few.  Here, he could see none, and even Corellia's two small moons were barely visible.  Despite being able to feel the stars, their invisibility bothered him, and he wondered how long he would have to live without their familiar light.  Wondered, further, if the shield would actually work to keep them safe, to keep the Dhro and his conquering force at bay.

He stood on the balcony long enough to become chilled before turning back in and heading for his bed.

Qui-Gon woke with a start the next morning, momentarily disoriented.  He was lying on a sinfully large and soft bed in a room flooded with sunshine, and someone was moving around just beyond his door.  He shook the last vestiges of sleep from his head and pushed the covers back.  It felt strange not being up before the sun and he realized he must be still living on the Temple's time.  He would have to adjust: he generally preferred to exercise upon waking.

He heard the front door to the suite open and close and smelled some lovely aromas as he struggled to the side of the bed and out of the oppressively comfortable sheets and blankets.  By the time he managed to wrap himself in his robe, there had been a tap on his bedroom door.  He opened it to find his page and a servant from the kitchens setting out what looked like a small banquet on the sideboard.  

Terrell greeted him with a smile and explained how the Empress had superceded his breakfast wishes, adding far more food than one person could eat at a sitting.  He managed to get Terrell to sit with him and help him.  Qui-Gon had the amusing idea she might have set up his breakfast deliberately in order to feed Terrell and allow him time to become familiar with Qui-Gon.  He looked forward to meeting her one-on-one, to test his theory.

Once Terrell loosened up, Qui-Gon was pleased to have a lovely breakfast consisting of good food and interesting conversation.  Terrell was mindful of Qui-Gon's earlier request, and talked freely about the various members of the court.  Within the space of an hour, Qui-Gon discovered that while Maul was feared, he was also respected; while Palpatine was despised he was neither feared nor even much respected; and while Obion was loved, he was also the object of concern.  The lovely young man who had tried to entice him the evening before happened to be a ward of Palpatine's by the name of Bruck Chun.  He was roundly detested by the palace staff.  The young woman who had tried the same was Siri Tachi, the daughter of an elderly minister who had been a friend of the Empress' father.  She seemed to be, so the gossip went, bent on bedding every single person in the palace, and had succeeded with an astonishing number.  Aliamon, the second heir, had grown into a sobriety that had tongues wagging.  She had been very bright and cheerful until the last year or so, and no one quite knew what to make of it.  Qui-Gon thought it might have been due to the threat of the Dhro.

The Empress herself seemed to be far above any gossip or description, and to the people of the palace, she simply was -- like a force of nature.  

Terrell wouldn't let him help clean up, so Qui-Gon retired to the luxurious 'fresher for his morning ablutions.  The tub was huge, big enough even for his large frame, and he realized it could seat two or even three people comfortably.  He resolved to a soak in the near future -- to take advantage of life so different than the Temple's harsh ways.  He was amused by the thought that the Council would be appalled at such a notion.

He was sitting at the teleunit with another cup of tea when Matrin knocked on his door.  Terrell let the man in, then vanished with the remains of their breakfast.

"I trust you slept well, Master Jinn?"

"Yes, I did...  A little too well, actually."  Matrin smiled at Qui-Gon's rueful expression.  "I was just sitting here trying to figure out how to access my calendar."

"Then I am in good time."  Matrin dragged another chair into the alcove and sat with him, showing him how others could access his calendar to make appointments, and how to accept or deny them.  To his chagrin, he realized he had sent an acceptance to everyone asking for his time that day, something Matrin chuckled over.  "We can fix this," he said.  "I have..."

There was another knock on the door, and Matrin rose.  "This should be her.  Bellen, come in, please.  Bellen Norrell, this is revered Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  Master Jinn, I believe Bellen will be ideally suited to your service."

Once again, Jay appeared to be correct.  He stood back, watching with a small smile on his face as Bellen took charge of Qui-Gon.  

And take charge she did.  The only downside to having a secretary was Qui-Gon couldn't get Bellen ("Please call me Belle, everyone does") to stop mothering everything alive -- whether sentient or not -- around her.  She had a sense of reverence towards him he could not overcome, even when she was berating him for over-booking himself.  "You can't be in two places at once, not even the revered Jedi can do that," she scolded mildly.  "Now, I know Lady Merena's secretary and I can..."

When Bellen broke for air, Matrin spoke. "Master Jinn, I think we've got everything under control here.  I must leave you now, but I am assured you are well looked-after in Belle's and Terrell's good hands."

Qui-Gon rose, his head whirling.  "I hope you are correct, Seneschal.  Thank you."  He pressed Matrin's hand warmly, even as there was yet another knock on the door.  This day looked to be quite confusing.  Since he was up, he walked to the door and opened it, then blinked.  "Lord Maul."

"It's just Maul, Master Jinn."  Again, Maul's light tenor voice and cultured tones seemed at odds with his appearance.  "May I come in?"

"Of a certainty."  Qui-Gon held the door open and Maul entered.  To his surprise, Qui-Gon found he towered over the strange man; he had seemed much larger in the dining room.  Maul was dressed in black leather and carried no visible weapons.  "May I get you something?  Some tea?"  Qui-Gon retrieved his cup from the table where Bellen was still working on his schedule.

"No, thank you; I'll only bother you a moment."

"It's no bother, I assure you."  Motioning for Maul to come further in, Qui-Gon continued.  "This entire day is going to be one long bother, I'm afraid."

Matrin chuckled.  "I hope we don't completely overwhelm you, Master Jinn; good day to you.  Lord Maul."  Matrin bowed to the room and left, closing the door Maul had left open.  Maul did not acknowledge either his presence or departure.

Before Maul could sit, he had to pick up Qui-Gon's reader, which had been left out the evening before.  "History?"  Maul asked, putting the reader on the table between the furniture.

"Well, yes, if it weren't for the fact that I actually enjoy history, I could consider it part of my mission here."  He waved Maul to the chair as he regained the sofa.

"Thank you," Maul said, as he sat.  "I'll be brief.  I mean to convey my thanks for your timely bout of intuition at dinner last night, and to give you a warning.  First Minister Palpatine is not happy about what happened and believes you poisoned the wine yourself, in an effort to get the Empress on your side."

Palpatine.  That was the man's name.  Qui-Gon sipped his tea, the new blend he had meant to try the evening before.  It was delicious and he could tell it would become his new favorite.  "I take it that, since I am not in irons, you do not believe the First Minister?"

"No, I do not."  Maul regarded him steadily, his strange gold-orange eyes calm and concealing any other emotion.  "If I had, you'd hardly be able to keep your lightsaber with you, even peacebonded."  Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow: he hadn't known anyone knew what it was; no one else had even mentioned it.  "My first loyalty is to the Empress and her family, not to government bureaucrats or flunkies," Maul continued.  "It would not have disturbed me overmuch if Minister Palpatine had succumbed to poison, though the amount in either of your glasses was not nearly enough to kill,  simply enough to make you very ill."

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow.  How unusual to find an honest, forthright man in such a position, Qui-Gon thought.  It was a refreshing change of pace.  "I thank you for your honesty," he murmured, sipping.

"The difficulty arises, of course, in that he is an influential and essential member of the court.  You would do well to stay away from him and try not to earn further wrath on his part."  Maul's mouth turned up in a wry smile.  "If it's at all possible."

"I shall endeavor to do so."  Qui-Gon smiled back at Maul, then suddenly realized something with a blink of shock.  Cliadle had the same smile.

"The worst problem, of course, is his hold over Obion."  Maul made a frustrated noise.  "I don't understand the hows or the whys of their connection, but it is there.  Whatever the First Minister thinks, Obion agrees to."

That was odd, and not a little unsettling.  But it did explain the heir's enmity at dinner.

Waving his hand as if to brush the topic aside, Maul continued.  "I understand you have a busy day ahead of you -- the Empress is expecting you in her garden tomorrow morning after breakfast.  Your page knows the way: I will meet you at the door."  Once again, Maul's look was calmly speculative.  "Her Exalted Majesty has great hopes for this reconciliation attempt between Sith and Jedi.  I admit to a certain skepticism on my part, but having been intimately involved with our mutual enemy in the past, I can assure you I will work as hard as I can to ensure the success of this treaty."

Once again, Qui-Gon blinked in shock.  "'Intimately involved'?" he asked.

Maul sighed softly and frowned, looking away.  "I am as the Dhro made me, Master Jinn.  Human enough for most things, inhuman for others.  It is fairly common knowledge around the court.  My own... 'intuition'... tells me you will be extremely important in the near future, so I would rather have you know it from my mouth than from someone who is less fond of me."  He pulled his gaze back and looked Qui-Gon straight in the eyes.  "And my own intuition tells me you can be trusted.  Like her Exalted Majesty, I am used to believing my intuition.  It has saved me from death on several occasions."

Qui-Gon drank the remainder of his tea, letting the action cover the maelstrom whirling in his head.  Maul sat still and calm across from him, obviously letting him have the time he needed.  The man had been genetically modified by their enemy, the Dhro?  It spoke to even further danger from the Dhro if that were the case, since they had all heard of the Dhro using cloned forces.  If Maul were Cliadle's father, then yes, he would have to be mostly human.  But what... ?  After thinking about it for a few moments, he realized the idea didn't surprise him as much as Maul's confidence did.  He'd only just met Qui-Gon, and for all Maul knew, Palpatine could be right and Qui-Gon could have been behind the poisoning attempt.  

But when Qui-Gon looked at Maul, really looked, he realized just how sensitive to the Force Maul was.  Whether or not he was using it consciously, the Force was speaking to Maul.  When Qui-Gon finally found his voice again, it was strained.  "I... I'm not sure I know how to respond... to that startling piece of information.  I can feel you through the Force, and sense both your ability and devotion to the Light, as I'm sure you can sense mine.  I'm certain the Empress would not have... trusted you, so... intimately... without cause.  But I must confess to a certain amount of trepidation at your revelation, though I thank you for trusting me with it."

"I understand."  Maul's clear, steadfast gaze did not waver.  "It has been over twenty years since I escaped from the Dhro, somehow; I have no memories of it at all, to my sorrow.  It's been nearly nineteen  years since I found refuge here.  The Empress has been and is my salvation, in all ways.  I will do everything in my power to protect her, and since she is determined to protect her world, that will be my goal as well, by extenuation.  I hope to have found an ally for both of us in you, and in the Jedi."

The Force was insistently nudging Qui-Gon, and for the first time in his life, he almost felt testy with it.  He wanted to make it sit still, like a recalcitrant puppy who would not stop wiggling in excitement.  He knew what it wanted of him, and thought he understood why, but he needed a moment to accept it, to find the right words.  All the Force wanted him to do was accept, without thought or hesitation, and that was contrary to Qui-Gon's nature.

When he finally spoke, he did so slowly and with great deliberation.  "I do not know, as of yet, what part I am to play here.  However, I can assure you I have the safety of our worlds, our system, foremost in my mind."  They stared at each other, wordless, for a long moment, while Qui-Gon sighed as the Force nudged him further.  "Did you know, Lord Maul, that 'may you live in interesting times' is an ancient Jedi curse?"  To his pleasure, Maul actually chuckled.  Yes, he liked Maul, despite, or perhaps because of, his strangeness.  

"I think, then, that we have been roundly cursed by our ancestors."  Maul stood with a fluid grace that spoke of his athletic ability.  "One other thing, well, two, actually.  First, again, you must call me Maul, not Lord Maul.  I assure you, I have no title nor any wish for one."

Qui-Gon also stood, smiling.  "As long as you'll call me Qui-Gon."

Inclining his head, Maul replied.  "Done.  Thank you, Qui-Gon.  The second thing is your recent reference to an ancient and banned religion." He raised one eyebrow sardonically, even as he dropped his voice, glancing briefly at Bellen, who was still working on the teleunit.  "As we both know, there is no such thing as the Force, which is why the mention of it or the practice of it has been banned in the Empire.  Since I know you would never break the law, I'm certain this was merely a slip of the tongue."  They stared at each other, Maul suppressing the same smile that Qui-Gon was.  Yes, Qui-Gon definitely liked Maul.  "It is something the Empress, and her heir, take a great interest in.  You might wish to discuss it with her -- privately -- while the treaty is being negotiated."

"Thank you."  Qui-Gon extended his hand.  "I think we're in for interesting times, Maul."

Maul took his hand and pressed it warmly.  "I think you may be right, Qui-Gon."  With that, Maul turned and left the room, as quietly as he had entered.

Between Bellen's watchful, efficient gaze and Terrel's irreverent one, Qui-Gon found his day passing quickly with a veritable parade of court functionaries, Lords, Ladies, Ministers and Councilors -- he could not escape them even on another world! -- and the omnipresent children of the Empress.  Anikin kept popping in and out, at least once blatantly hiding from one of his tutors, and Cliadle rather diffidently appeared several times as well, often with books in her hands as an excuse.  To his confusion, he couldn't decide if he liked the attention from the children or not.  On the one hand, they reminded him of all he had lost, but on the other, he saw them as a way to gain something he'd never had: a family.  Not that the Jedi were supposed to seek a family outside the bare and sterile Temple.

He put the issue firmly aside.  He was not on Corellia to play with children; he had a mission, in the form of the Jedi-Sith treaty, and that would take up most of his time.  Of course, if there were official reasons for him to be with the children, that would be one thing.  Unwilling to think more on it, he pushed his mind onto more pleasant matters.

To his surprise, Aliamon also stopped by.  She shared pleasantries with him for several minutes between his appointments, and then quietly, almost shyly, asked if he would be her escort to dinner.  He agreed readily, though her well-hidden but palpable relief gave him pause.  Before he could say anything, however, his next appointment arrived and he had to leave his disquiet over her request in favor of seeing and being seen.  

His appointments finally ran out shortly before he would have to present himself in the dining room again.  Bellen sat with him for the last part of his day and helped him work out his schedule for the next.  No one but the Empress was sacred in Bellen's book, and it was with relief that Qui-Gon let her handle the polite but firm rejections and postponements.  He noted the appointment with the Empress in the morning, the one Maul had alluded to, and wondered if were going to be a daily occurrence.  With Bellen's help, he arranged his day much more sanely, giving himself time to visit with the children and to catch up on his reading and work on the treaty, which Bellen was privy to.  A request from the languages tutor made him smile: the Empress had requested Qui-Gon's help in tutoring Maisen and Anikin in Basic, so he let Bellen schedule a daily lesson.  

Qui-Gon's gratitude towards Bellen for her help was accepted on her part with pleased embarrassment.  "We'll get you straightened out yet, Master Jedi," she said before taking her leave and promising to be at his service early the next day.

He barely had time to clean up for dinner before he had to leave, escorted by Terrell, for Aliamon's rooms.  He hoped his second dinner would be less eventful than his first.  Even preoccupied as he was, he still noticed Terrell's adoring and longing expression when he saw Aliamon.  It was obvious he had a pash for her, as Qui-Gon would have said in his own padawan days.

Dinner was again stuffy and formal, though sitting next to Aliamon helped Qui-Gon endure it.  It was obvious she was using him to avoid Bruck Chun, who sat on her other side and tried (and failed) to get her attention.  Qui-Gon privately resolved to seek information about the boy's interest in her, and, if it were possible, to cut such interest short.

By the time dinner was over, pleasantries and cordials shared with many of the people he had met one-on-one earlier in the day, and a long walk back to his rooms, Qui-Gon found himself exhausted.  Resolving to wake earlier the next morning so he could exercise, he collapsed into his too-soft bed and slept.

When Terrell came into Qui-Gon's rooms early the next morning, he found Qui-Gon on the balcony, exercising.  The young man stopped and stared, his mouth hanging open, as he watched Qui-Gon step through an elegant, minimalist kata.  The serving staff, entering with breakfast, broke his rapt attention before Qui-Gon had to stop exercising, something for which he was grateful.

The balcony left much to be desired in the way of floor space; Qui-Gon couldn't indulge in the running and leaping exercises he so enjoyed, but it was better than trying to move furniture around in the large room.  He would have to speak to the Seneschal about using an empty room, perhaps.  Or a gymnasium -- there must be one somewhere in the warren of the palace.

He was ready and on time for his first appointment, and met Maul with a nod.  Terrell told him he'd be around to guide him whenever he was done, and Maul opened the door which let him into paradise.

That's what it looked like; a small interior garden which was a riot of color, scent and sound.  The color came from everywhere: flowers, plants, even the small paving stones of the path he was on.  The scent was not overwhelming but refreshing.  The sound was from birds perching in a large tree at the center of the garden.  Seated on a bench across from the tree he found the Empress.

She was dressed simply; the heavy, ornate robes she had worn during negotiations and at dinner were gone, and in their stead was a simple gown of blue, gathered about her and fluttering through the gaps in the wrought-iron bench.  She acknowledged Qui-Gon's entrance with a glance, but didn't move, continuing to watch the birds' antics with a small smile on her face.

Qui-Gon joined her on the bench, copying her pose.  The birds were raucous, rude, noisy and amusing.  They jockeyed for position on the tree, fighting over the bird feeders dangling from several branches, unwilling to give up even the smallest of territories.  It was rather like the way he saw the court, though it could be any court on any world.  After a while, they began to fly away, leaving only a few extremely hungry ones.

"They're great mimics," the Empress said.  Her voice sounded less formal as well.  "Ani keeps trying to teach them rude noises.  Luckily for us all, he hasn't succeeded."

Qui-Gon chuckled.  "From what I've seen of Anikin, that sounds very much like him."

"He is greatly taken with you, Master Jinn.  We are not certain which would be more wise -- to warn you or to warn him."

Qui-Gon shook his head and smiled.  "From what I've seen of your younger son, Exalted Majesty, I do believe warnings of any kind would be superfluous.  He is a wonderful boy, bright and full of promise.  I look forward to getting to know him better."

The Empress smiled.  They fell silent, and Qui-Gon almost felt he could meditate.  The garden was so well laid-out and life ran so rampant through it that he felt very near to the living Force, and it comforted him.  Selonia was home, but it was nothing like this.  He could become used to it very quickly.

"Tell us, Master Jinn, what do you know of our reign and our people?"

Glad he had done his reading the evening before, Qui-Gon smiled.  "All I know, Exalted Majesty, is what I've read in books.  Your reign has been one of the longest in your history, and the scholars are already calling it a golden age of the Sith.  You were very young when your father died and you ascended the throne, eighteen I believe--"

"Seventeen," she corrected him gently, without looking at him.

Qui-Gon inclined his head.  "Seventeen.  A terribly young age to assume such responsibility, but your youth doesn't appear to have had ill-effects on the Empire."  Their voices were soft and the breeze was warm.  Qui-Gon let his legs stretch out before him and crossed his ankles.  "Your father, the Emperor Oti-Wan, was much-loved and was quite innovative in his ideas, something you have continued, to the benefit of the Jedi.  You have reigned now for over thirty years and have given the Empire five heirs, from different consorts.  It is very evident, at least to me, that the Empire has flourished under your hand.  Your people are lucky to have you, Exalted Majesty."  Qui-Gon hoped his sincerity came through in what he said, for he did not mean his words as lip-service.

They sat in silence for a long time, though it was not a strained one.  The Empress' voice, when she spoke next, was soft and had an undertone of sadness to it.  "Our people..."  Qui-Gon glanced at her, but her focus was far away.  "We are a hide-bound people, Master Jinn.  Change does not come easily, no matter how beneficial it may be.  But change, we will have to, if we are to survive this threat to our world -- to our system -- intact."

Qui-Gon sighed.  "I would agree with you there, Exalted Majesty.  However, I would remind you resistance to change is normal."  He spread his hands.  "Were it not, many good things could come far easier than they do."

She glanced at him then away again.  "The treaty between our peoples is a change not looked upon with uniform acceptance.  There are many who oppose it; some, quite vehemently.  Even for an Empress of the Sith, forcing change is difficult."

Qui-Gon nodded.  "But worthwhile."

"Yes, this is a change that is very worthwhile.  Our only fear is..." She sighed.  "Is it too late?"

Frowning, Qui-Gon mulled over her words.  Choosing his own carefully, he answered her as honestly as he could.  "I do not believe any time to be too late, Exalted Majesty.  Where there is life, there is hope, and the Dhro is not near Corellia's system yet.  That you have been willing to set aside our ancient enmity and reach out to us gives me further hope."  He smiled crookedly at her.  "I very much fear had it been left to the Jedi, this entire situation would not have come about."

"That is good to hear, Master Jinn," the Empress replied.  "And it gives us hope; hope that perhaps it is not too late for all of us."  Still focused on something far away, she frowned.  "Anikin has been waking with nightmares, these past few weeks.  We are... concerned."  

His brow furrowing, Qui-Gon considered those words.  Anikin was extremely powerful within the Force, but untrained, as all the royal family was.  There had to be a level of understanding there, however, for they had not been driven mad, as happened to many untrained Force adepts.  Then again, he did not know how they perceived the Force.

Before he could bring the subject up, the Empress spoke again.  "Tell us now about our brethren on Selonia.  It has been many long years since we have had consistent relations with you, and then, of course, we were at war."

"Hopefully this treaty, once configured and signed, will keep it from happening again," Qui-Gon murmured, his mind still on the puzzle of the royal family's use of the Force.  "We are a simple people, Exalted Majesty.  The Jedi are trained as warriors, it is true, but we are far more comfortable in the role of mediators, as diplomats."  Setting aside his puzzle, he tried to honestly describe the Jedi, bearing in mind his acceptance of them was often complicated by his disagreements.  

"We are ruled by a Council of thirteen, who are elected from within the ranks of Masters.  There can be no posturing or politicking; a list of those eligible is posted and the voting is open to all, senior padawan and above.  Occasionally there are situations where two or three masters will get a similar number of votes.  In those cases, there will be a second election to break the tie."  Qui-Gon glanced at the Empress and smiled sardonically.  "It is a flawed system, but it seems to work most of the time."

"The Jedi have far more experience with off-worlders than we do, is this not true?"  The Empress' voice was still light, still curious.

"Yes, we have been much in demand over the last few centuries, in our system and in others in the Allied Worlds.  We frequently visit Drall and Talus, for example.  I, myself, have been as far as Naboo, a long month's travel and more.  We have often traveled to Alderaan and to Coruscant, the great city-planet."  Naboo had been a beautiful world though, one he had enjoyed visiting.  Now, it, too, was under the threat of the Dhro according to their latest information.

"Naboo is familiar to us," the Empress said, and Qui-Gon blinked.  "Our hope is that our sister-monarch will win her freedom to come here if necessary, as is our wish."  The Empress hesitated before continuing.  "We are not certain of Naboo's fate, and fear for her and her people."

"Queen Amidala is a formidable young lady, Exalted Majesty.  If there is any way for her to escape the Dhro, she will find it."  He hadn't known about the Empress extending asylum to those rulers of planets threatened by the Dhro.  It added to the puzzling tapestry he was weaving of the woman's nature.  "It is a long way from Naboo to Corellia, even with the fastest ships.  If her planet has fallen, if she has escaped, she may still be in transit, may still be trying to avoid the Dhro's forces.  The latest intelligence I have from the area says he's on the move again, massing his forces."

"The latest intelligence?"  The Empress turned and regarded him with her deceptively mild gaze.  "There is much we do not know about the threat facing us, Master Jinn.  It is our hope that, working together, the Sith and the Jedi can become the last bastion against this incursion by the Dhro."

"It is my hope as well, Exalted Majesty."  He gave her a wry, half-smile.  "But change comes with effort on our side as well.  If your people seem hidebound, mine might be considered glacial."

Her response to his mild gibe was a twitch of her lip.  "We must assume that is why our reluctance for a formal reception was greeted with such enthusiasm -- on the part of the Jedi, at any rate.  There were those in the Court who were most displeased at not getting an opportunity to trade insults."

Qui-Gon chuckled quietly.  "We are not accustomed to being on the receiving end of state dinners, Exalted Majesty.  I confess I was pleased as well."

"Your simpler ways will take some getting used to in the Court, Master Jinn.  We look forward to the upheaval beginning."  Qui-Gon blinked at the Empress, but her face was utterly bland.  "The Organa family on Alderaan has been in touch with us as well," she said after a moment, returning to the topic.  "Their system is already under siege from the Dhro.  We have given them amnesty, should they need it."  It didn't surprise Qui-Gon overmuch, now that he knew about Naboo's queen.  

"Your Exalted Majesty is both kind and shrewd.  Had we resources at your command, the Jedi would be offering the same amnesty.  The pattern of incursion by the Dhro shows our system will be approached within the next few months -- the last of the Allied Worlds."  He looked into the middle distance, his actual sight light-years away.  "Make no mistake, Exalted Majesty, the Dhro will come.  His expansion is like a cancer, absorbing everything, the good and the bad, of our galaxy.  It is up to us, over the next months, to ensure the Corellian system is where he stops.  Having the strength of others behind us will only help us."

He heard the Empress swallow next to him, but did not look at her, giving her some privacy to think.  When she did speak, her voice was whisper soft.  "We are not used to being afraid."

"None of us are."  Qui-Gon glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw her pale face.  "We have grown complacent in our strength, smug in our surety of our armament.  But divided... divided we were certain to fall.  Together, we have a much better chance."  After a moment's thought, he added, "There have been foreseeings among the Jedi: great troubles are coming.  There is not much that would have persuaded us to reach out to you, but between those foreseeings and the Empire actually reaching out to us..."  he trailed off, spreading his hands.  He wondered if he should equate Anikin's nightmares with the foreseeings of the Jedi, for he felt it was nearly certain they were, but at the last moment, he hesitated.  Even after Maul's comments on the subject the evening before, he recognized he still had lengths to go before he felt entirely comfortable raising the possibly volatile topic of the Force and its use.

They fell silent, she obviously wrapped in her own thoughts much as he was.  Yes, the Force would have to be addressed at some point, but Qui-Gon wanted to avoid it until he felt more sure of his path, of his status here.  With only slight surprise, he realized he already felt welcome.  But his presence was still precarious, and though he had made friends, he knew better than to rely upon the kindness of others.  The Empress would be the deciding vote, and he could wait.  They still had time.  Not as much as he would have wished, but it would be enough.

A tiny, musical chime sounded and the Empress straightened.  "It would please us greatly to continue this conversation tomorrow morning, Master Jinn.  Seeing you later in the day would be preferable, but time is limited for both of us, unfortunately."  She paused, then looked straight at him. Her face was still serious but her eyes were dancing.  "Though your secretary has helped matters a great deal."

Qui-Gon rose, bowed and offered his hand to help the Empress rise.  She took his hand and rose gracefully.  "We had best get our day started then."  He released her hand and bowed again, deeply.  "I look forward to further discourse with you, Exalted Majesty."

"I do as well, Master Jinn."  He followed her back along the path where she met Maul and he met Terrell.  It wasn't until he reached his rooms that he realized she hadn't used the royal 'we' in her last sentence.

It was another busy day for Qui-Gon, one of meetings, tutoring and exploration, though less of the latter than he would have liked.  It culminated in the arrival of  two datacrystals of information from Councilor Mace Windu.  Qui-Gon shook his head ruefully.  He should have known the Council would be riding his back on this mission, even from afar: after their live transmission of the other day, he knew they wouldn't trust him not to do something 'rash.'  A quick check of the encrypted crystals told him they also contained the latest information on the Dhro, so he put them in his belt pouch and promised himself he'd read them both after dinner.

There were considerably fewer people at dinner that evening, and a much less formal air.  Apparently, now that he was firmly set into his place in the palace, he was much less interesting.  Place cards still helped him find his seat, which was next to Aliamon, who once again clung to his arm as they entered the room.  Qui-Gon noted but did not comment on Bruck Chun's narrow-eyed expression when he saw them enter together.  The Empress entered shortly after they did, and Qui-Gon gallantly pulled Aliamon's chair out for her, after quickly and quietly swapping the place cards so that he sat next to Chun, rather than her.

Chun looked sulky as he sat, but Aliamon sent Qui-Gon a smile of gratitude.  Gone was the composed, self-assured young lady he met at his first dinner; Qui-Gon wondered at the change, and further wondered if it was in reaction to Chun or something else entirely.  He knew the attempted poisoning on Qui-Gon's first day had rattled her, but he couldn't see her turning to him solely because of it.  Though he did not mind providing her an escort to dinner; for the most part she was a lively companion, now that she had become more used to him.

The heir did not enter with his mother.  However, as the diners were just beginning with the first course, he hurried in, with Maul at his side.  The Empress made no comment on it other than to nod to Obion as he took his chair.  He looked... preoccupied, and did not look up from his plate for anything.

Palpatine was again at the Empress' right, and as he had done since the first night, he glowered at Qui-Gon for most of the dinner.  There had been no other problems since that first, almost disastrous dinner, and Qui-Gon idly wondered just who had been sacked from the serving crew in the fallout from the attempted poisoning.  The Empress talked to her two eldest children only in passing, and Obion replied minimally, if at all.  Neither Anikin nor Maisen were present, though Cliadle sat three or four seats down from Qui-Gon on the other side of the table.  Qui-Gon tried to be a good companion to Aliamon, but she seemed as preoccupied as the rest of her family.  She frequently glanced at Palpatine, always frowning down at her food immediately after.

Shortly after dessert was served, the Empress rose and left the room with Obion, Maul and Palpatine in tow.  Qui-Gon looked to Aliamon but she didn't seem inclined to rise from the table yet, though she toyed with her wineglass pensively.  "Your Grace?"

She almost flinched at his words, and smiled in mute apology.  "I must beg your pardon, Master Jinn."  Lifting her glass, she took a last sip.  "I seem to have much on my mind.  May I bother you to escort me back to my quarters?"

Still puzzled, but willing to play the protector for her (even more willing to skip the after-dinner cocktails), he rose, helped her from her chair and offered her his arm again.  Bruck Chun was radiating displeasure but Qui-Gon ignored him, preferring to concentrate on Aliamon.  The child seemed more than pensive, she appeared to be downright depressed, and Qui-Gon was at a loss how to help her.

Terrell met them at the door to the dining room and led them off towards the private wing.  Finally deciding to speak instead of staying mute, Qui-Gon patted Aliamon's hand.  "Is something wrong, your Grace?  May I be of service to you?"

She sighed in reply, and Qui-Gon respected her silence as they walked, hoping she'd break it if she felt comfortable, if he didn't press.  A few moments later, his wish came true.  "It's probably nothing," she murmured.  If they hadn't been walking together, he might not have heard it.  "I think perhaps we're all a bit... jumpy."

Giving weight to her words, Qui-Gon nodded.  "There is much to be jumpy about," he conceded.  "But don't discount your feelings automatically.  "It isn't paranoia if they truly are after you."

She chuckled at his words and he felt the strain in her decrease.  "I don't..."  She paused as they made the turn towards her rooms.  "I don't like being pursued."  Qui-Gon nodded mutely, showing a willingness to listen.  "Not with such single-mindedness.  It simply doesn't feel right.  There are those... there are some who..."  She trailed off, remaining silent for several paces.  "Mother says I should listen to my instincts, but often, of late, I feel those instincts are false, that they're leading me astray, and I'm not certain why."

They came to a stop before her suite, and Terrell opened the door for them, though they didn't enter.  Qui-Gon frowned in thought.  "What are your instincts telling you, your Grace?"

Aliamon's brow was furrowed as well.  She took a deep breath and seemed to choose her words very carefully.  "They tell me... they tell me certain people are not to be trusted, and I don't know why.  They tell me some I have known for years are not who I knew at all."  She swallowed.  "I am... They tell me I should be frightened."  She finally looked Qui-Gon in the face, and he felt a burst of sympathy for the confusion and pain he saw in her eyes.  "They also tell me I should trust you.  Should I listen, Master Jinn?"

Qui-Gon took both her hands in his while he thought about his reply.  He felt no specific warning from the Force about the younger heir.  Her Force signature was far less bright than Obion's, which was odd since they were obviously full brother and sister, but she had no obvious taint.  When he spoke, he did so with as much sincerity as he could.  "I think you should listen to your mother and trust your instincts, your Grace."  He gave the small hands he held a gentle squeeze.  "If I may be so bold... there is something that often helps me when I have run up against questions such as you are facing: meditation.  I do not know if you have been trained in it, but I would be glad to help you learn the technique.  It is a method whereby your mind is cleared and your thoughts examined dispassionately.  It may help you."

She nodded, her eyes staring into his intently.  "I have heard of it, though I've never tried it.  Some say it's illegal use of... you know.  Do you think it would help?"

"It might," he said.  "It's not for everyone, and it's not illegal.  But I can sense the confusion within you, and if I can help, I will."

She looked down, a smile playing about her lips as she flushed, lightly.  "Thank you.  I would like that."

Pleased he had helped relieve her mood, he patted her hands.  "Since I have a secretary now, I'll have her contact you to set up an appointment.  Perhaps in your mother's garden."  She was such a lovely child, and seemed so troubled that it tugged at Qui-Gon's heartstrings.  He lifted one hand and tucked it under her chin, gently raising her eyes to his again.  "You have but to ask, your Grace.  As I said, if I can help, I will."

"Thank you, Master Jinn."  She smiled -- a genuine, if tired smile -- and with a small curtsey to his deep bow, walked into her rooms.

Terrell gave him a curious look before he turned and led Qui-Gon back down the corridor.  Since Qui-Gon suspected Terrell's feelings for Aliamon ran deep, he thought he understood where the look came from, but didn't comment upon it.  As they turned the corner, on their way back to Qui-Gon's rooms, raised voices from behind them made Qui-Gon pause.  He thought he heard Palpatine's voice, and further, he thought he heard his name.

He stopped, looking back with a frown, and Terrell finally joined him.  "Master Jinn?"

Glancing at his page, he spoke softly.  "Where are those voices coming from, Terrell?"

Looking around Qui-Gon's shoulder, Terrell answered in an equally soft voice.  "It sounds like it's coming from the smaller library's sitting room.  Her Exalted Majesty often uses it as an informal meeting room."

For a moment indecisive over whether to break in on the meeting, his mind was made up by hearing his name spoken loudly and with scorn in Palpatine's voice.  "I find I have a craving for a book to read before bedtime," Qui-Gon said.  "Can you wait for me?"  

"Certainly, Master Jinn."  Terrell's face was composed but his bright, amused eyes betrayed him.

Qui-Gon had been so busy with everything -- appointments, meetings, dinners, breakfasts, lunches, various heirs to the throne -- he hadn't had time to explore his own quarters thoroughly, much less the rest of the wing or even a small fraction of the city-sized palace.  He'd seen the room he entered from the corridor as he walked by, and it had seemed cozy: a small room, lined with bookshelves; two bay windows with padded seats; a fireplace for chill evenings.  There was another room off of it, which he hadn't seen, and from it he again heard the voice of First Minister Palpatine, at some volume.

"You are being too trusting of him!  How do we know the Jedi are even on our side?"

"You are out of order."  Qui-Gon blinked, taken aback at the icy voice of the Empress.  

"He is not.  It is a legitimate question, and one I'd like to hear answered."  Obion's voice was not nearly as cold as his mother's.

Plastering on his most guileless face and tucking his hands into the sleeves of his tunic, Qui-Gon walked to the doorway.  "Your pardon, Exalted Majesty, I was passing by and thought I'd heard my name...?"

"Master Jinn."  The Empress looked grimly pleased at his interruption, though Palpatine looked surprised and furious.  "How fortuitous.  Minister Palpatine has made some allegations against you that you may wish to refute.  Minister?"

Palpatine glared first at the Empress, then turned the glare on Qui-Gon.  "It has come to my attention you are receiving clandestine information from outside the Empire," he said through gritted teeth.  "Furthermore, I have reason to believe you are in contact with someone who is in known collusion with the Dhro."

Qui-Gon cocked his head, releasing his frustration and somewhat inappropriate humor to the Force.  "Clandestine?  I have received live transmissions from Selonia my first night here, and yes, more information came into today, but it could hardly be construed as clandestine.  Council member Mace Windu sent me two data crystals.  I have not had time today to do more than glance at them -- it appears to be the latest information on the Dhro's movements."  He opened his belt pouch and withdrew the crystals.  "I was on my way back to my suite, after escorting her Grace to her rooms, and had intended on studying them tonight."

Maul, his parti-colored face completely impassive, looked from Palpatine to the Empress.  "Thank you, Master Jinn," the Empress said.  Her voice was as flat as the table at which they sat.  "We would appreciate an update from you tomorrow morning, when we meet."

Bowing, Qui-Gon nodded.  "I would be happy to report to you, and to give you copies of the crystals, if you wish."

"You have our thanks."

Looking back to Palpatine, Qui-Gon spoke blandly.  "I am not certain what you're referring to in your other statement, First Minister.  Could you elaborate?"

Palpatine swallowed and, with visible effort, calmed himself.  "I don't believe you can deny your dealings with a man who is now very high in the ranks of the Dhro's forces.  His name is Xanatos T'Crion, and I happen to know--"

"I am in no contact in any way, shape or form with my former padawan, First Minister."  Qui-Gon didn't bother to hide his anger in his clipped words as he interrupted the stuffed shirt.  "The person you allude to is as good as dead, as far as anyone in the Jedi Temple is concerned.  He fell to the Dark, and his path is now his own."

Qui-Gon was aware of the stares from the Empress, Maul and Obion, but didn't take his gaze from Palpatine, who was frowning thunderously.  "Then you do not deny this person was once your apprentice?" Palpatine ground out.

"To my sorrow, I cannot deny that.  As for being in contact with him, rest assured I have not, nor will I be."  Drawing himself up to his full height, Qui-Gon hid behind his statement and allowed nothing else to show, either in his voice or his face.

"Thank you, Master Jinn."  The Empress' voice was soft and carried the merest hint of apology.  "You have saved us some time -- we were about to send for you.  We bid you a good evening, and look forward to your report in the morning."

Qui-Gon swept into a low bow, aiming it at three of the four persons present, then turned and strode from the room.  Terrell had to almost run to catch up to him, since Qui-Gon was in no mood to slow down.  He was furious at that idiot of a minister, who was as bad if not worse than some of the dolts on the Jedi Council.

A puffing Terrell regained his place before Qui-Gon as Cliadle's soft voice made him pause.  "Master Jinn?"  She had appeared out of a cross-corridor, a large book under her arm. "I'm sorry, is this a bad time?"

Taking a deep breath and releasing his anger into the Force, Qui-Gon dredged up a genuine smile for the child.  "No, of course not.  I was just heading back to my quarters."

He offered her his arm and she took it tentatively.  "I have the book you asked about, the one about mother's history since becoming Empress," she said, as they continued walking to Qui-Gon's rooms.  "I thought I would drop it off for you this evening."

"That would be a kindness, your Grace.  And I can loan you the history of the Jedi you were interested in as well."

"Is something wrong?"  Cliadle was frowning up at him, and he realized he was speeding his pace up again.

"I must apologize," he said, slowing once more.  "I'm afraid I've allowed someone to goad me into anger.  I didn't mean to take it out on you."

They reached Qui-Gon's rooms and Terrell opened the door for them.  "It must have been the First Minister," Cliadle murmured.  "He's not a very nice man."  Qui-Gon stopped and blinked at her words.  She turned and gave him an impish smile.  "I know it's not a very politic thing to say, but none of us like him very much... well, none of us save Obion, and I don't know why he's suddenly changed where that man is concerned." She sighed.  "Mother tells us there are things and people we must simply accept, for there will be times when we may have to do unpleasant things for the good of all.  However, she also tells us that even though we may have to do something, we aren't required to like it.  We're just required to do it."

Taking a long moment to parse that extraordinary statement, Qui-Gon found himself having to hold back laughter.  "Your mother is a very wise woman," he finally said, grateful for the release of tension her words engendered in him.  "And I think you have inherited quite a bit of that from her.  I foresee you becoming quite an asset to your Empire, your Grace."

Cliadle wrinkled up her nose and giggled.  "Oh, I hope not," she said.  "I'd rather just find a library somewhere and hole up for a few decades.  Obion can have the throne and scepter... I wouldn't know what to do with them."

Reserving his judgment on that opinion, Qui-Gon stayed silent.  

The book Cliadle was interested in was one of about a dozen real, bound books he'd brought with him, and was very old.  Most of the works he'd brought were in crystal form, which was quite a bit easier to carry.  He gave the book over to her eager hands, and she almost caressed the cover, ooh-ing and ahh-ing.  "I'll take good care of it," she said, hugging the book to herself.

"I know you will," Qui-Gon assured her.  He glanced at the much more recent tome she offered him in trade.  "I appreciate this very much, my dear.  Thank you."

"Oh, thank you, Master Jinn."  She smiled at him and, after a moment, added, "Ali told me you were going to help her learn meditation.  Is that true?"

Nothing is faster than sister gossip, Qui-Gon thought wryly.  "Yes, I did.  Would you like a lesson as well?"

"Yes, I would."  She leaned forward, dropping her voice.  "I think I can already do it, but I know Ali needs to learn.  I thought if I joined you, she'd feel less self-conscious."

"Why do you feel your sister needs to learn how to meditate?"  The door to his suite was open, so Qui-Gon dropped his voice as well.

"She's..."  Cliadle stopped herself and frowned down at the carpet.  "I'm just worried about her.  She's scared for Obion -- we all are -- and... well...  I think it would be the better for all of us if we were to learn about... you know.  The thing we can't talk about."  She smiled winningly at Qui-Gon, who raised an eyebrow.  "The thing the Jedi use that we Sith can't."

Ah, the Force.  Suddenly, Cliadle's motivations became clearer.  He imagined Cliadle, the scholar of the brood, would have a better idea of what it was and what it could do than any of them, with the possible exception of her mother and father.  It was definitely time to test the waters by speaking to the Empress about it.

"I'll make sure Belle includes you in the invitation, Cli.  I hope I can help both of you."

Deciding his hectic day had given him more than enough to do, Qui-Gon released Terrell and changed into a comfortable robe and slippers, brewed some tea and settled on the sofa with the book Cliadle had brought him.  He found he didn't want to spoil the good mood the child had gifted him by looking at the information from the Temple, since he already felt it was bad news.  Instead, he began skimming through the comprehensive history of the Empress' reign.

The Empress had five children by three different men, but only two were official consorts, according to the history.  Maul's name was never mentioned, though Cliadle's was, along with her birth records.  Obion and Aliamon were full siblings, sired by Orrem Kenobi, a distant cousin from a city on the other side of the planet.  Orrem appeared to have been the Empress' childhood sweetheart given that they were married shortly after her coronation.  Since it wasn't strictly necessary to marry to be a consort to the head of the Empire, Qui-Gon had to assume there was genuine love on both parts.  Indeed, when Orrem had been assassinated, a bit over a year after Aliamon's birth, the Empress had gone into seclusion and had stretched the time of mourning to almost a year, until someone had arrived and caught the female assassin.  It must have been Maul who did so, Qui-Gon realized, remembering Maul's words and doing the math in his head.

According to the history, the assassin had been put to death.  The Empire's somewhat archaic laws carried a variety of interesting and gruesome means to execute someone who had committed such a crime, but there was no further information on what had happened to the woman.  For some reason, Qui-Gon suspected there was more to the story than he could see, and made a mental note to check into it.  He also noted sourly the ancient custom of Inheritance was still alluded to: the heir to the Empire must kill his or her sire before ascending the throne.  He assumed -- he hoped -- it was something that wasn't adhered to any longer.

Her second and last consort, Anikin's and Maisen's father, seemed to have been a political alliance.  The man had been from Alderaan, of the royal House Organa.  It didn't seem to be a very romantic match, and Qui-Gon wagered Maisen's arrival surprised everyone involved.  The man had since returned to Alderaan and had risen quite high in the political arena.

There was much that wasn't overtly stated in the book.  Hints, allusions, the politic way of referring to a sitting monarch -- all of it merely whetted Qui-Gon's appetite for more.  He was drawing a picture of the Empress in his mind, one that surprised him.

Before finally retiring for the evening, Qui-Gon recorded in his journal and meditated on the balcony for a good hour, preparing himself for the onslaught of bad news.  When he finally got around to reading the reports Mace Windu had sent, he was glad for his preparations, for the news was worse than he had suspected.

He was preoccupied at breakfast, copying the data crystals the Temple had sent him and re-reading some of the reports in preparation for his meeting with the Empress.  Bellen hadn't arrived and he didn't expect her until after he returned.  Terrell thankfully respected his silence and was merely efficient -- and hungry.  He put up little more than a token resistance to joining Qui-Gon in eating.

After a quick wash and change, Qui-Gon was on his way to the Empress' garden.  Terrell left him with Maul, to whom Qui-Gon offered the crystals he had burned.  "Unencrypted copies."  One of Maul's hairless eyebrows lifted.  "I'd advise you to read them soon... you will need to know what has happened."  Not speaking, Maul merely nodded, his face grim.

The Empress was in the same place, watching the raucous birds at their breakfast.  Though Qui-Gon hated to do it, he felt it were best done quickly, and he knew their time was circumscribed by other appointments.  He waited, standing with his back to the birds, for her attention.  When he had it, he spoke as gently as he knew how.

"Naboo has fallen."

She didn't move, though she closed her eyes and swallowed.  Qui-Gon sat next to her, wondering if he should offer comfort, wondering whether it would be accepted.

"It is as we've feared, then."  Her voice was soft and pained.  "Is there any word...?"

"Of Queen Amidala?  No.  But that may be a good thing.  The Dhro certainly doesn't have her."

"As you have said, where there's life, there's hope."  The noise began to lessen as the birds flew off.  "What of Alderaan?"

"The man who calls himself the mouth of the Dhro has made his final... he calls it offer, I would call it threat.  I believe it was the same as the others -- capitulate or be invaded.  I expect House Organa will reject it."  Qui-Gon leaned forward and let his hands dangle between his spread knees.  It helped to keep him from looking at her, since he felt she could use the semblance of privacy.  "Our latest intelligence says the Dhro's droid armada, which is no longer needed on Naboo as his clone troops are occupying it, is massing just outside Naboo's system.  It looks to be a certainty that Alderaan will be the next stop, and from there, Coruscant."

"Has this man, this 'mouth of the Dhro'... has he approached any of the Federation heads, or has he spoken before the Consortium?"  The Empress was almost preternaturally still.

"Yes, he has spoken at least once before the Consortium itself.  As for approaching the other Federations in private, I believe he has; at least our intelligence points that way.  None of the Consortium's representatives have spoken of it, though."

"Do you think they will stand firm against him, or throw in with him?"

He sighed and hung his head; he'd been dreading the question.  "Officially, they have all claimed they will resist.  They won't."  He glanced at her and added, "It is my belief that as soon as the mouth of the Dhro shows on Coruscant, they will capitulate.  That's just my opinion, Exalted Majesty, but I stand by it."

"Understood."  She still hadn't moved, sitting as still as the tree they faced.  "Your opinions carry significant weight, Master Jinn, both on Selonia and here."  She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, bringing herself under control.  "What do you know about this man, the Dhro's herald?"

"Not much, unfortunately, though I have my..." he looked down for a moment, "...still rather nebulous  suspicions.  He's a tall man, with white hair and a distinguished bearing.  He is always the envoy, the stormcrow.  Where he leads, the Dhro's forces follow soon after."  Qui-Gon sat back up and lifted his chin to the sky, sighing deeply.  "I expect he'll be here within two to three months."

"So soon?"  

Qui-Gon couldn't reply to that softly-worded plaint, and didn't try.

After a few moments, he began to speak again, hoping to ease her fear, to shore her resolve.  "We've taken the right steps, Exalted Majesty.  You have extended the hand of peace to us, and the Jedi... we will fight alongside you to preserve our system."  He hoped.  No, they would, he thought grimly, they would if he had to threaten, if he had to blackmail them into it.  Finally, he turned and looked directly at her.  She was very pale, but in her deep blue eyes he saw a firm determination.  He nodded, taking the chance he knew he must.  "The Force tells us this is the right course, Majesty.  When the Dhro comes, he will find he has more of a fight here than he bargained for, than he is ready for."

"The Force."  She smiled ruefully.  "You know, we could have you burned at the stake for that pronouncement."

"I place my life in your hands, Exalted Majesty."  He did not smile as he said that, but looked at her seriously.  "This posting of mine was foreseen.  I knew it would happen, and most of our Council knew it would happen.  The Force wants us to stand together against the Dhro, Majesty.  One way or another, he will stop here."

She blinked, and Qui-Gon was pleased to see hope fill her eyes.  "You may be right, Master Jinn."  She turned and gazed at nothing, her brow furrowing.  "There is much that needs to be changed here, starting, perhaps, with the Force.  Make no mistake; though officially, it is a banned 'religion', the royal house of Wan knows it well."

"I can feel it in you and in all your children, especially Obion and Anikin.  You said the other day that Anikin has been waking with nightmares..."

"Yes."  She gave him a sharp glance.  "A gift from the Force?"

"I would have to say yes, though there could be other reasons."

She fell silent, obviously thinking, and Qui-Gon gave her silence to do so.  After a long moment, she finally murmured, "We will need all the allies we can logically use against the Dhro.  We should send word to the Organa family, get at least their children here now, before their world falls completely under siege.  And you..."  She turned back to him, her face set.  "Over the last dozen years, we have been quietly repealing the laws regarding the Force -- they were antiquated.  There is much about Sith law that is antiquated."  She sighed again.  "But there are many who still do not trust it, who still speak of it in hushed tones, looking over their shoulders.  Do not presume to mention it away from the royal family -- and Maul.  We must go slowly."

"We may not have the time to go slowly," Qui-Gon warned her, and she nodded.

"This is true.  Nevertheless, to go quickly may invite civil war, and that is something we definitely cannot afford."  She raised an eyebrow.  "Take special care not to mention this anywhere that might get back to our First Minister.  He needs no more ammunition against you, Master Jinn."

It was Qui-Gon's turn to shove his feelings aside, for he was surprised to find a lingering anger over Palpatine's words the evening before, anger over how Obion had stood up for the man.  "I must thank you for yesterday, for allowing me to refute his allegations."

"Master Jinn, you are a diplomat.  You must understand political expediency."  Her voice was firm and yet carried tacit apology.  "We do not like Minister Palpatine, but he cannot be removed from his place without losing the power and connections of his family to the throne and scepter.  And we both know we can ill-afford to lose any allies."

Qui-Gon smiled.  "I do understand, Exalted Majesty.  And I apologize for my testiness with him.  Soon, I believe, I will be able to better explain the situation to you."  She frowned slightly, but he gave her no chance to contemplate it further.  "I have given copies of the datacrystals from the Temple to Maul.  He will need them, since quite a bit of it deals with hard data on the strength of the Dhro's forces."

"Thank you."  Yes, she definitely had suspicions behind her mild gaze.  He should not and would not underestimate her; like her children, her Force acuity was astounding and was undoubtedly a help to her in many ways she could not, or would not, acknowledge.  "We will not enquire too deeply in the methods used to get this information -- at least not yet -- only thank you for its timeliness."

She opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by a soft chime.  She sighed and shook her head.  "There is so much to do and so little time to do it in.  Is there anything else you need to ask of or tell us?"

He smiled, stood and offered his hand to help her up.  "Only that I would like a copy of Anikin's schooling schedule.  It would help if I knew when he was hiding from his lessons so I could make sure he did not."

She chuckled.  "Ani... what a wonderful son he is.  Obi used to be just like Ani, once, playful, mischievous... staying up all night to work on something and impossible to rouse the next day.  Now... Now he would follow the First Minister against his mother's wishes."  She sighed again, and her face, which had briefly lost the weight of care, fell under it again.  He felt the spike in the Force that was her concern, and remembered Obion's strange, tainted Force aura.  "I fear for my children, Master Jinn," she whispered.  "As a mother... I ask you, please look out for them."

"With all my heart," Qui-Gon replied, almost surprised at the depth of his sincerity.  He sharply reminded himself that he wasn't here to look after children, but to work on a treaty.  Regardless, there was nothing he could say more, because platitudes would be just that -- empty and meaningless.  The troubles of the galaxy were descending upon Corellia, and nothing, not the Force, not all the blasters and all the lightsabers of the Sith and Jedi combined would change that.

He followed the Empress back into the palace and back to work.

Having Bellen arrange his day made Qui-Gon's life enormously easier.  It might have been easier simply because most of the palace courtiers had met, talked to and seen him over the last two days. None of them were certain of his place in the Empress' court, how influential he would be, and as such, they felt no need to repeat the visit.  The viewing.

Yet.

None of them ever came right out and asked for anything.  Their appointments were all merely greetings, pleasantries, tactful questions and other meaningless words.  It was not something Qui-Gon was unfamiliar with, but it was tiring and he found himself releasing his boredom and frustrations to the Force on a frequent basis.

Qui-Gon found himself booked with a recurring appointment late each morning: language lessons for  Anikin and Maisen.  Anikin was thrilled at the prospect and showed it; Maisen was the opposite and felt no compunction to hide it.  Qui-Gon had been expecting that, and had a strategy to defeat her stubborn dislike: turning their session into a game, where her aim was to come out ahead of her older brother. It worked well, and she learned quickly.  It helped Qui-Gon as well, helping him improve his own mastery of the Sith language.  Once, the Jedi and the Sith spoke the same language, much as they occupied the same planet.  But after the rift between them, the Jedi decided to adopt Basic, the universal language of the galaxy, and push aside their ancestral tongue.  The Jedi had, by now, almost forgotten the language the Empire clung stubbornly to.

His day moved as swiftly as the one before it, though less chaotically.  Shortly after noon, he was meeting with Aliamon and Cliadle and deciding where to sit with them.  Rather than using the Empress' garden, Cliadle suggested another interior garden, one that opened onto all the heirs' rooms.  It was another lovely, sheltered space, and Qui-Gon's respect for the architect -- or architects, the palace had an air of a living, growing thing -- increased.  He promised himself a time away from all his requirements to truly explore it, a building that seemed as labyrinthine and almost as large as the Jedi Temple on Selonia, but overall much happier.

The sun was shining brightly through the particle shield as the three of them found a comfortable, grassy patch in the garden.  Qui-Gon explained the procedure to them as they sat.

"The idea of meditation is to let your mind go where it will.  To free it from the puzzles and problems that have been bothering you, to allow it to examine things dispassionately and fully, without the interruption of trouble.  The first thing you must do is to get comfortable."  He smiled wryly at them.  "Often, that's the hardest thing for someone learning the technique.  I prefer resting back on my heels, like so."  He easily took his favorite pose, smiling at the feel of the grass under his legs, the breeze that played in the neckline of his tunic, and the sun on his face.  "Whichever pose you take, make sure you're comfortable with it.  Nothing keeps one from achieving a proper meditative state like one's legs falling asleep."

Both Cliadle and Aliamon giggled, giving each other mischievous glances.  

Qui-Gon watched as they settled themselves: Cliadle in a half-lotus and Aliamon with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them.  Both girls were comfortably dressed as well, in worn trousers and overlarge tunics, stained with age and memory.  Cliadle wore her thick, dark hair in a neat tail, but Aliamon's beautiful ginger hair was braided from the top of her head.  Neither of them wore cosmetics and from that and the way they were dressed, they could have been any two pretty girls from a middle or upper-class family.

The lesson went well.  Cliadle was able to achieve a quiet mind almost at once, which impressed Qui-Gon.  Aliamon was more difficult.  She would come close, then her mind would skitter off, dancing from subject to subject.  It felt to Qui-Gon almost as if she were being blocked, as if she were being  prevented from seeking the peace she strived for.

At the end of an hour, she was near tears from frustration and disappointment.  Cliadle was apparently drawn out of her meditations by the sadness flowing from her sister, and Qui-Gon watched with approval as she scooted over to embrace her half-sibling.  "It's all right, Ali," Cliadle murmured, hugging her tightly.

"You've come so very close, your Grace."  Qui-Gon pitched his voice low and soothing, hoping to ease the child's disappointment.  He touched her hand, trying to calm her aura with his touch  "Sometimes it takes a while for the comfort to grow within you.  I've often seen initiates struggle for days, or weeks, trying to find that peace.  It will come to you."

After a surreptitious sniff and a backhanded swipe at her eyes, she looked up at Qui-Gon.  "May we try tomorrow?  Please?"

"Of course we can," Qui-Gon replied, smiling.  "There's a technique used among the Jedi: a shared meditation.  Sometimes, when meditation won't come for whatever reason, or if the person is in a particularly bad way, another person can guide them into the peace they seek.  We could try that with you, if you're still unsuccessful tomorrow."

That cheered her, and both girls rose as he did.  They led the way back, but Cliadle stopped, looking diagonally across the garden.  Qui-Gon followed her gaze and saw a figure with crossed arms, leaning against the jamb of a different door.

"Obi?"  Cliadle said with a frown.  "How long have you been there?"

"Not long," Obion replied.  Though he looked the picture of nonchalance, Qui-Gon felt his emotional turmoil.  "What were you doing?"

"Master Jinn is teaching us to meditate," Cliadle replied.  Aliamon nodded to her brother and went inside.  Qui-Gon came abreast of Cliadle and bowed to the heir, who completely and coldly ignored him.

"To meditate?" He scowled at her.  "That's like Force use, Cli.  You know you're..."

"Oh, hush."  She made a face at her brother.  "I'll have you know meditation has nothing to do with Force use.  Well, usually, anyhow.  Great ancestors, Obion, you know that.  As if Mother would allow us to learn that stuff."

"Then why?"

"Obi..."  Cliadle's voice was just shy of a whine, and she looked over her shoulder to make sure her sister was gone before lowering her volume.  "You know she's been on edge -- Ani isn't the only one waking with nightmares.  And that idiot Chun just keeps--"

"I thought I told him to stay away from her," Obion all but snarled the words, causing Qui-Gon to frown and Cliadle to put her hands on her hips.

"Oh, like that would work.  Like it worked when Po-- Maulie told old Pulpy to stay away from you.  Has he?  Well?"

"No."  Obion muttered the denial, but Qui-Gon could see his hands were tight fists.  "But that's different."

"How is it different?  That dried up old lecher wants just one thing from you, Obi, the same thing Bruck wants from Ali.  I don't see how it's different."

"Stop it.  I won't have you saying such foul things about him.  He's... he's..."  

Cliadle made a frustrated noise.  "Oh, never mind.  The two of you are like conjoined twins sometimes.  And more stubborn than Mai and Ani combined."  With a disdainful sniff, she turned and all but flounced back to her suite of rooms.  

Qui-Gon stood still and observed as Obion watch his sister walk away.  The heir's face was an interesting study as he got himself under control.  Qui-Gon saw sadness and pain chase themselves across the young man's expression before resignation took up residence.  "My apologies, Master Jinn," he said finally, after a hard swallow.  He wouldn't look at Qui-Gon, but instead studied the ground before his feet.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Highness."  Qui-Gon wished he could help draw the pain he saw away, but it was a difficult thing to do with Obion.  First, he didn't know the heir as well as he knew the others, and second, Obion was different, much different from his sister and half-siblings.  The others had already graced Qui-Gon with their affection and apparently felt at ease enough around him to not censor themselves, and Qui-Gon felt pleased and honored for such ease.  With Obion, though, Qui-Gon suspected the weight of the throne was sitting heavily upon him, especially now, with the Dhro looming large on the horizon.  It couldn't have been helping to have Palpatine trying to control his thoughts, either..  "You're welcome to join us at any time.  We'll be out here at about the same time every day, our schedules accommodating."

Still not looking up, Obion nodded.  "I thank you for the offer."  Wordlessly, Obion turned and walked back inside.

Qui-Gon frowned at nothing for several moments before following Cliadle back inside.

Now that he understood the situation -- a bit better, but not thoroughly -- Qui-Gon offered to be Aliamon's escort to dinner that evening and resolved he'd at least offer to escort her every evening.  He also intended to find out who was in charge of setting the places, and turned to the Seneschal for that information.  He managed to get the man to stop by before dinner that evening, after Bellen had left him for the day.

Sending Terrell out with a note to Aliamon about dinner, Qui-Gon asked Matrin to sit.  "How are you settling, Master Jinn?" he asked.  "I hope Terrell and Bellen are pleasing you with their service."

"Very much so, Jay," Qui-Gon said, trying to signify they were talking without formality, "and I thank you for your help in sending them my way.  I need, however, to ask you a few questions, and wanted to do so in private."

"Of course, Qui-Gon," Matrin replied, leaning forward with a frown.

"The young man, Bruck Chun... he seems to be harassing Aliamon.  For the last two nights at dinner, I found her place card next to his, even though I had escorted her to dinner and she wanted nothing do to with him.  Do you know the reasoning behind this?"

"Chun, hmmm?"  Matrin's face was bland, but Qui-Gon caught a flicker of emotion deep in his eyes.  "Chun is the First Minister's ward.  He's a troublemaker, and I say that in all confidence."  He raised an eyebrow at Qui-Gon, who nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes.  "I wasn't aware his pursuit had descended to that level, however."

"Could he be bribing someone on your staff to seat him with Aliamon?"

"If he is, then it will stop tonight."  Matrin's eyes were hard.  "I'll make some inquiries.  And I thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Waving his hand, Qui-Gon brushed his thanks aside.  "It's nothing.  I would do far more for any of the children.  They're quite an extraordinary family."

Matrin smiled.  "They are, aren't they?  Though it is none of my business, I firmly believe her Exalted Majesty is doing a wonderful job with them.  Well, all of them except, perhaps, Maisen."  Matrin shook his head and chuckled ruefully.  "There isn't a day goes by without someone threatening to throttle that little beast."

Qui-Gon chuckled with him.  "She'll come around.  Eventually."

Terrell picked that moment to return, and Qui-Gon stood as Matrin did.  "Thank you, Master Jinn, for your confidences.  I'll see to the situation immediately."

"I leave it in your capable hands, Seneschal."  Terrell had a funny expression on his face as he watched the two older men bow to each other.  He followed Matrin out the door with his eyes, then turned back to Qui-Gon.  "Do you have something for me, Terrell?" Qui-Gon asked mildly.

"Uh... oh, yes."  Terrell was glancing from the door to Qui-Gon and back, but finally shook himself and spoke.  "Her Grace said she would love to be escorted by you, but you must also escort her Grace the Third.  If you can, I mean.  That's what she said."

Terrell seemed very rattled, and Qui-Gon frowned.  "That would be fine by me, Terrell.  Let me go get cleaned up for dinner, and you can escort me to their quarters."

"Yes sir."

Terrell continued to be very quiet as he escorted Qui-Gon to the girls' suite of rooms, and from there to the dining room.  Qui-Gon felt very rakish with two such lovely young ladies, one on each arm, and had to laugh at himself for feeling such.  He thought Terrell's problem might be his feelings for Aliamon, though he was good about hiding them.  Qui-Gon idly wondered about the whole 'consort' business, and whether it would be possible for Terrell to some day express his feelings for Aliamon.

The seating arrangement this dinner had Qui-Gon back to the left of the Empress and the Heir, had the two girls he'd escorted next to him, and Bruck Chun halfway down the table on the other side.  Anikin and Maisen were once again absent, though it was probably because dinner wasn't formal.

Qui-Gon did his best to be a good guest at the table, engaging the girls and Obion in idle talk, or at least trying to.  The Empress asked him how the language and meditation lessons had fared, and he found himself giving a somewhat edited version of both to her, trying and succeeding to get a smile from her.

Obion was very quiet during dinner.  He once again pushed his food around on his plate, eating only a small portion.  He would look up suddenly and blink -- at his mother, at Qui-Gon, at the First Minister -- then go back to not eating.  Palpatine kept addressing some of his comments to the heir, who would answer confusedly, if at all.

Aside from talking to Obion or the Empress, Palpatine ignored everyone else at the table, especially Qui-Gon, which suited him fine.  His dislike of the man grew every time Qui-Gon had the misfortune to see him.  The Empress too seemed less and less happy with the man.

Dinner flowed by smoothly, and before he realized it, dessert was before him.  The Empress leaned over to the heir and said something to him that made him frown, then they both rose.  As she passed  Qui-Gon's chair, she leaned down.  "Master Jinn, you'll be expected at breakfast tomorrow.  Your page has been notified."  

Qui-Gon blinked.  "Majesty?"  But she was already halfway to the door.  

The family breakfasts the Empress scheduled were held very early.  That didn't bother Qui-Gon, as he had always been an early riser; he was already up and had briefly exercised by the time Terrell came to take him to the Empress' private quarters.  The Seneschal let him into the room, smiling a greeting.  The Empress was sitting in a comfortable-looking chair, dressed in an elaborate dressing gown and reading from a hand-held reader.  She looked up and smiled as well.  

Qui-Gon bowed.  "Good morning, Exalted Majesty."

"Master Jinn.  Do sit down, please.  Would you care for some tea?"  There was an assortment of beverages on a low table next to her chair, and Qui-Gon nodded.  He smelled the blend he had become addicted to, and wondered if she knew how much he'd come to like it.

There was a table to the side of the room which held place settings and food, kept hot with electric warmers.  As Qui-Gon settled on a chair, a different door opened to admit Anikin.

He was dressed but still looked rosy and flustered from sleep.  Without even a glance at Qui-Gon, who took a seat near the Empress, he simply clambered into his mother's lap and tucked his head under her chin.  "'Morning, Mam," he mumbled.

Putting aside her reader, she wrapped her arms around him in a strong hug.  "Good morning, Ani my love," she murmured into his hair.  "We have a visitor this morning, Second Son."

After a moment, Anikin looked up and spied Qui-Gon.  "Master Jinn!" His mother let him go and he repeated his movements with Qui-Gon, unabashedly climbing into his lap and hugging him.  At an age when most boys would be shy about tactile expression, Anikin seemed to be a physical child, craving touch in the form of frequent hugs and hand-holding.  Qui-Gon wondered if it were due to his enormous Force potential.

Regardless, Qui-Gon felt honored to be treated so intimately, and hugged the boy back.  He was truly fond of Anikin, and was pleased the boy counted him as a friend.  "Good morning, Ani.  Did you sleep well?"

Anikin sighed before answering.  "Um, no... well, kinda."  Since Anikin showed no signs of wanting to leave his lap, Qui-Gon arranged them more comfortably.

"Did you have another dream, Ani?" the Empress asked.  Her face was pinched with worry.  Matrin came back into the room as she spoke and glanced at her with a frown.

"Yeah," Anikin replied softly.  "It wasn't so bad, though, Mam.  Really."

Qui-Gon smoothed the fine, golden hair from Anikin's forehead.  "Perhaps you can tell me about it later, Ani.  Sometimes that helps."

"Do you get bad dreams too, Master Qui-Gon?"  There were dark circles around Anikin's blue eyes and Qui-Gon's concern for the boy increased.

"Sometimes," Qui-Gon allowed.  "And it usually helps me to talk about them."

"All right, then."  Glad that seemed to be settled, Anikin slid to the floor and crossed to the table, where Matrin began serving him.  

Aliamon and Maisen were the next ones in the room, both fully dressed, though Maisen's clothing looked rumpled in contrast to Aliamon's, which was perfect.  Maisen was already whining, and her sister was frowning at her.  "It's not fair, and I don't want it." Matrin caught Qui-Gon's eye and winked.

"Mother, please do something with her," Aliamon said, bending to kiss her mother's cheek in greeting.  Maisen simply climbed onto her mother's lap, much as Anikin had, though her face was sour.  "Oh!  Good morning, Master Jinn," Aliamon added, noticing Qui-Gon.

"Good morning, your Grace," Qui-Gon replied, smiling.  

After a brief hesitation, Aliamon crossed the room, bent and swiftly kissed Qui-Gon's cheek.  "Thank you for yesterday," she murmured as she straightened.

"Anything to help, my dear," he replied, touched.  He glanced at the Empress and was relieved to see approval -- and relief? -- in her gaze.  Somehow or other, the Empress' family was working its way under his skin, no matter how hard Qui-Gon tried to avoid it.

Being brutally honest with himself, he realized he wasn't trying very hard to avoid it, if at all.  He couldn't decide yet if it was a good thing or a bad thing, and, with a mental snort for his foolishness, he put the question aside completely.

Maisen was still complaining about something, until the Empress finally put her hand over the child's mouth.  "Mai.  We have a guest at breakfast.  Please behave yourself or you can eat in your room.  And as the language lessons are not going away, it does you no good at all to whine.  I would appreciate it if you would act your age."  Qui-Gon was amused to watch as Maisen opened her mouth to say something -- something he would have bet was another whine -- only to freeze as her mother raised a finger.  "Now, Maisen."

Dropping her head to her chest, heaving a great sigh and appearing to be the very image of put-upon dejection, Maisen allowed herself to be put back on her feet and directed to the table.  Matrin didn't even ask her what she wanted to eat; her plate was already full and waiting for her.

"Master Jinn, may I fix you a plate?" Matrin asked quietly.

"I'll help myself once the children are through, Seneschal.  Thank you."  Qui-Gon poured himself more tea, then raised his eyebrow at the Empress, still holding the teapot.  Her mostly empty cup was sitting at her elbow.

"Thank you, yes, Master Jinn," she said, once more picking up the reader as he poured for her.  "The crystals you copied for us are a wealth of information.  Some day we'll have to have a long talk about how the Jedi manage to get such detail."

"As you wish, Exalted Majesty," Qui-Gon replied as blandly as he could, but he knew his eyes were dancing.

The door opened before she could speak again, and Maul strode in.  Anikin and Aliamon looked up and greeted him, though he just nodded to them on his way to the Empress and once again totally ignored Matrin.  He bent to speak quietly to the Empress.  "He's not in his room." Her eyes closed and she slumped in her seat.  After a moment, Maul added, "Should I search?"

After a long moment, she shook her head.  Looking up at Maul, she murmured, "No, give him some more time."

Maul nodded, then looked across at Qui-Gon.  "Good morning, Qui-Gon," he said.  "Thank you for the datacrystals."

"You're welcome."  Qui-Gon swallowed hard.  'He' was obviously Obion, and though Qui-Gon felt no specific nudge from the Force, the very fact they were worried had him worried as well, and he gave himself a firm mental slap.  The Heir was an adult.  He could care for himself.  And even if he couldn't, he had others to help.  There was nothing for Qui-Gon to do about it.

Anikin rose from the breakfast he was demolishing and hugged Maul, giving him an odd-looking brown fruit.  "Thank you, Ani," Maul said, gravely accepting the gift.  "I still think you'd like them if you tried them."

"They look like falumpaset droppings," Anikin said with a shrug, and Aliamon choked on a laugh.

"Ani," his mother said warningly, but Ani just grinned at her over his shoulder.

The door opened again, this time admitting Cliadle.  She was dressed in a warm robe and slippers, and looked rumpled and sleepy.  "Morning, Mam; sorry, I overslept."  She kissed her mother then turned and wrapped her arms around Maul.  "Morning, Poppa."

"Good morning, da'schal."  Maul hugged Cliadle back tightly.  For a moment, his strange face became gentle and loving, and Qui-Gon, with a flash of insight, understood how he had come to sire a child with the Empress of the Sith.  There was obviously more to Maul than what could be seen on the surface, and his tenderness with his daughter spoke volumes towards his feelings.  "There is a visitor for breakfast," he murmured into Cliadle's ear, and she turned, blushing when she saw Qui-Gon.

"Oh!  Master Jinn.  I'm sorry," she said, flustered.

"You stayed up too late reading again, didn't you, Cli?"  her mother asked, diverting her.

"Sorry, Mam," she replied, not looking at all contrite.  

Cliadle joined her siblings at the table, and Matrin served her, after adding to Anikin's plate.  "You can go on now, Jay, I know you have appointments," the Empress said.  "We can handle it from here."

"Of course, Majesty."  He bowed to the room and departed.

Realizing he was hungry, Qui-Gon stood and walked to the table.  There was still plenty of food left, and he helped himself to a plate, though he didn't take nearly as much as Anikin had.  "Majesty, may I serve you?" he asked, as he put his plate down.

"Thank you, no, Master Jinn."  She smiled at him over the top of her reader, but it was a strained smile, and her gaze kept darting to the door.  Maul pulled a chair near her, sat, and began murmuring.

Qui-Gon was just finishing his small meal when the door opened again, this time to finally admit Obion.  He looked dazed and disheveled and was wearing the same clothing as he had the evening before, at dinner.  The Empress' face looked stricken for a moment before she composed herself.  "You're late, Obi," she said softly.

"S-sorry, Mam.  M'sorry."  Obion blinked and shook his head sharply, weaving drunkenly.  

Before Qui-Gon could move, Maul did, and was at Obion's elbow, steadying him.  "Are you all right?" Maul asked.

Obion took a deep breath and nodded.  "I... I think I just need to eat," he mumbled.  

Qui-Gon hastily grabbed the last clean plate and filled it with food even as Maul directed the young man to a chair.  Anikin rose and went back to his mother's lap, taking and giving comfort, clearly upset with his brother's behavior and his mother's reaction to it.  Qui-Gon met Maul's eyes over Obion's head -- the heir absolutely reeked of sex, but he didn't have a 'well-laid' look about him, and he certainly didn't look like a man who had spent an enjoyable evening.

Aliamon fetched some juice for her brother, then traded glances with her sister.  Maisen was completely oblivious to the tension in the room, eating her food with a frown on her face.

A slight wince when he sat coupled with a different aroma -- one Qui-Gon knew well, not only from his own experimentation days, but his time in the field -- made Qui-Gon draw in a sharp breath.  Obion drained the juice his sister provided and started in on the plate of food, eating mechanically, with no obvious pleasure in the act.

Obion's pained expression decided his internal question of whether to speak.  Sitting next to the heir, Qui-Gon murmured, "Highness... do you need a physician?"

Maul's eyes widened. Concern and anger flowed off him, almost swamping the room.  Obion paused in his eating and seemed to hunch in on himself, shaking.  "That would perhaps be a good idea," he replied, sotto voce.  "But please, don't tell Mother."

"She needs to know, Obion," Maul said, his voice very nearly a low growl.

"Please, Maul."  Obion glanced up at Maul and whatever was in his eyes convinced the Empress' bodyguard, for he nodded shortly.

"Finish eating.  I'll have Dr. Pfelling meet you in your room in a quarter hour."  Maul looked across to Qui-Gon.  "Can you make sure he gets there?"

"I will," Qui-Gon replied, before rising with Obion's glass and walking across the room to refill it.  Obion would need fluids, if Qui-Gon's suspicions were correct.

The Empress, Anikin still on her lap, looked at Qui-Gon as he refilled the glass.  Her heart was in her eyes and Qui-Gon felt a burst of sympathy.  "Is he all right?" she asked.

"He will be," Qui-Gon said firmly, before reaching out to ruffle Anikin's hair.  He returned to his seat next to Obion, putting the full glass on the table.  Maul and Obion had been muttering to each other, but when Qui-Gon returned, Maul nodded shortly and left the room.  He spared the Empress one long, enigmatic look before the door closed behind him.

Obion looked marginally better for eating and drinking -- he immediately drained the glass of juice Qui-Gon fetched -- but his face was still too pale.  With an obvious effort, he slowly and efficiently cleared everything on his plate.  Qui-Gon heard the Empress talking to the other children, telling them about her plans for the day and postponing their update to her on their lessons.  Anikin's softly spoken worries about Obion were soothed gently.

Finished, Obion struggled to push his chair back and stand, and Qui-Gon quickly rose to help him.  The Empress' voice rose to reach Qui-Gon's ears.  "Please come to the garden when you're... afterwards, Master Jinn."

"I will, Majesty."  Trying to look as though he were not propping Obion up, Qui-Gon helped him out of the room and down the corridor.  He had a fair idea where Obion's rooms were, after being in Cliadle's and Aliamon's, but he let Obion direct them and set the pace: a slow walk.  The smell of blood grew stronger and Obion's face grew paler and more drawn with every step.

He kept giving Qui-Gon looks, strange looks, as though he expected Qui-Gon to say or do something different.  But by the time they reached his rooms, Obion was so far gone, so close to collapse, he was even leaning on Qui-Gon, allowing him to help.

They made it to Obion's rooms, closing the door behind them, before the heir crumpled.  Expecting it, Qui-Gon caught him and lifted him into his arms gently, using the Force to augment his strength: Obion was lean but well-muscled, and weighed more than he looked.  The door to the bedchamber was open and it was obvious the bed hadn't been slept in. Qui-Gon put the young man down on it, gently straightening his limbs.  Obion opened his eyes with a gasp.  

"It's all right," Qui-Gon said softly, carefully perching on the bed next to him.  "Who did this to you, Highness?"

Obion shook his head roughly, though his eyes were haunted.  "It's not... I need... Mother..."

"It's all right, she's not here, and Maul has called the physician.  I'll wait with you until he gets here; I'm not leaving you alone."  Sweat began to bead on Obion's forehead and Qui-Gon smoothed it away.  "It'll be all right.  I promise," Qui-Gon added with a small, wry smile.

His attempt at a mild jibe was ignored, and Obion tossed his head from side to side, muttering.  "He said it would hurt, the first time, he said it would hurt but this..."

Qui-Gon shoved his anger back, with effort.  "It shouldn't hurt at all, it doesn't have to hurt -- ever.  He lied to you, Highness."  And when Qui-Gon found out who 'he' was, 'he' would be receiving a lesson in pain that 'he' hadn't bargained for.

That is, if there was anything left for Qui-Gon after Maul was through with whoever it was.  

Looking near tears, Obion turned his head away.  "I didn't want this... not this... didn't want this..."  

He looked as though he was going into shock, and Qui-Gon pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed up, to keep Obion warm.  He saw the 'fresher through another door, and hurried in to get a warm, damp cloth.  He sat next to Obion, soothing him, mopping the sweat on his forehead with the cloth, until the door opened to admit Maul and a short, portly man with a wild fringe of short hair around his otherwise bald head.

"Master Jinn, this is Dr. Pfelling.  How is he?"  Maul sounded brusque and worried at once.

"He's going into shock, I think," Qui-Gon said softly, giving up his place for the doctor whom he greeted with a nod.  "I can smell blood, but I haven't checked."

The doctor acknowledged him with a grunt and immediately sat next to Obion, speaking gently to him.  Qui-Gon moved back, next to Maul, but couldn't take his eyes off Obion.

"He'll be fine now," Maul said softly.  "Pfelling has been the court physician since before Obion was born."

Nodding, Qui-Gon watched as the man carefully turned Obion over, then gasped as he saw the stain on the seat of the heir's pants, obvious once his long tunic was lifted.  "Whoever did this to him..." Qui-Gon snarled, surprising himself with the rage he felt.  No, he didn't know Obion as well as the other children, but that hardly mattered.  With effort, he relaxed his hands and released his fury to the Force.

"I believe it looks worse than it is," the doctor said quietly.  "I'll need to strip him and do a thorough exam, but in my experience, rectal tears often behave like scalp wounds -- they can bleed heavily, but are seldom dangerous if tended to properly."  He carefully rolled Obion back on the bed and turned towards Maul.  "I'm more concerned about the shock than I am about the blood loss.  I should notify Adi that..."

"No," Maul interrupted softly.  "Obion has said he doesn't want us to tell her."  Maul glanced at Qui-Gon.  "Considering Master Jinn is going directly from here to her garden, though, she will have information that neither of us has given to her."

Qui-Gon nodded reluctantly.  "Yes, I can go to her now."  He looked from the doctor to Maul.  "Please, let me know how he's doing?"

"Of course," Maul said.  He squeezed Qui-Gon's shoulder briefly before moving with the doctor to help begin stripping Obion for an examination.  

Qui-Gon knew the way well enough that he didn't require Terrell, and was, in fact, grateful for his absence.  He was still angry at whoever would have had the temerity to damage Obion so, and needed to calm himself.  He didn't need anyone around him, asking questions or voicing concerns, to exacerbate his emotional situation.

The door to the garden was watched by a young man he didn't recognize, dressed in the livery of the Empress.  He nodded as he watched Qui-Gon approach.

"Master Jinn?  I'm Captain Sarin.  Maul told me to expect you, sir.  Go right in."  

Nodding to the young man, Qui-Gon allowed him to open the door and close it behind him.  Bemused, Qui-Gon wondered how many of the Empress' guard was hand-chosen by Maul specifically, though was willing to bet the answer was 'all of them.'

Regulating his breathing, Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment and centered himself, trying to release what was left of his anger before meeting with the Empress.  She was also a concerned mother, he reminded himself, one who obviously cared a great deal for her children.  She would need his calm strength, of that he was certain.

She was sitting at the heart of the garden again, but her head was drooping and he could feel her anguish.  He sat next to her without a word, and, greatly daring, took her hand.  She allowed the familiarity, but didn't look up as she spoke in hushed words.

"Obion lost his virginity at seventeen... one of my ladies, actually.  As the Empress, I must know such things, but as a mother..." she trailed off, and Qui-Gon nodded.  He could imagine the discomfort of having to learn about your son's love life.  "He's been attracted to both men and women, but has been more shy, less assertive, around men."

Qui-Gon stayed mute, letting her talk.  His rage over Obion's injuries was slowly being supplanted by concern and respect, not to mention surprise she would let him become such a confidant.  He resolved to keep earning such trust where he could.

"He's changed, Master Jinn.  These past few months, he's changed.  He's quieter, less talkative, and he argues with me all the time.  I thought it was due to our concern about the Dhro, but now..."

"He's going to be fine, Majesty."  Qui-Gon tried to imbue his tone with as much sincerity as he could.  "The doctor and Maul are with him now, and he's young, strong.  His injuries aren't as severe as they looked.  He'll be fine."  And when I find out who did this to him... Qui-Gon kept those words inside, but she must have sensed them.

Sitting straighter, the Empress turned to face him.  He was unsurprised to see tears in her eyes, though he suspected she'd never let them fall.  "You have been here for what, less than a week, Master Jinn, and yet I have already come to rely upon you.  My children adore you and speak highly of you, yet they barely know you.  I barely know you, but here I am, less than the Empress, more than a mother, asking you to hold my son's life in your hands."  She turned away, swallowing hard, but did not remove her hand from his.  "I am the Empress of the Sith, but at this moment, I am merely a mother, frightened for her eldest son."

Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon released it slowly, calming himself.  "I will do everything within my power to live up to the trust you place in me, Majesty.  I swear it on my life."

They sat still for a long moment, watching the birds, letting the rising sun warm their backs.  When she spoke again, her words were surer, stronger: she was once more the Empress.  "Please see to it that your schedule is changed today, Master Jinn.  Your presence is requested at the staff meeting.  In fact, you will probably be required from this day forward.  We do need to work on the treaty between our peoples, although that has been superceded of late with the present crisis."  She turned and gave him a sad, half-smile.  "Unfortunately, the First Minister will be there as well, but we need your input on the Dhro and his advances."

Qui-Gon nodded.  "I will tell Bellen as soon as I return to my rooms.  Will I need to re-schedule the meditation sessions I have planned for today?"

The Empress smiled, a small but genuine thing and Qui-Gon was glad to see it.  "We would not presume, Master Jinn.  Aliamon and Cliadle have become exceedingly fond of you, as I pointed out earlier."  She made a sound, something like an amused snort.  "Actually, you should be on the alert for overtures of romance in that department, though I daresay any made wouldn't be serious."

Alarmed, Qui-Gon blinked.  "Majesty?" he said, and she appeared to find his discomfiture humorous -- or perhaps it was merely her anxiety.

"You appear to be one of those men who is completely unaware of his own magnetism, Master Jinn."  Qui-Gon supposed his face showed his shock, which was why she laughed quietly.  "Were I ten years younger, I confess I might have been interested in giving my daughters a contest for you."  She patted his hand, which she still held.  "Don't worry.  If it hasn't been clear enough, let me state it baldly.  I trust you.  As the Empress, as a woman--" she sighed, and her face lost some of its playfulness -- "and as a mother.  My intuition tells me the hope you have given me will be our salvation, and I cannot ever repay that."

Trying hard to regain his equilibrium, Qui-Gon found himself floundering -- a state wholly unusual for him.  "I..."  He looked at the Empress and took little real comfort from her smiling gaze.  "I am... flattered, very flattered," he finally managed to say.  "Since we are being honest, however, I must add... your daughters have no hope, actually.  I'm afraid even if they weren't far too young for me, my tastes run towards... a different... ah... type... altogether."

She nodded, raising one eyebrow as if what he had said confirmed something for her.  "I see.  I shall have to pass that along, in order to protect your virtue, Master Jinn."

She was winning the conversation he hadn't even realized was a competition, and Qui-Gon shook his head in surprise.  He knew when he was beaten, and so conceded the field gracefully.  "I told Maul that 'may you live in interesting times' is an old Jedi curse," he said.  "Something tells me I've been cursed."

That made her laugh outright, and helped dispel the last of the tension between them.  "I must go in," she said, giving the hand she still held a squeeze.  "I would like to check on my son before I start my day formally."  He stood and she allowed him to help her to her feet.  "Please join us for breakfast tomorrow, Master Jinn.  Hopefully, you'll see a more normal family."  To his increasing surprise, she leaned up and kissed his cheek.  "The mother is eternally grateful for your care of her son, Master Jinn," she murmured.

The morning passed in a haze of language lessons, correspondence to and from the Temple, work on the treaty, notes from Maul and the Empress, and finally, meditation lessons.  After his morning, he actually felt relieved to be outside with the girls, since he knew it would do him well to be at his calm center when he attended the Empress' staff meeting.

Now that their mother had alerted him, he could see the seeds of infatuation in both of them.  He was lucky, however; they were both levelheaded girls who didn't seem serious about any of it.  At any rate, they were both subdued from the morning events, and giggling was kept to a minimum.

As it had been the day before, Cliadle was able to slip into a calm space almost immediately, but Aliamon had a harder time of it.  She had tried to copy Qui-Gon's pose, on her knees and leaning back against her heels, but he could see by her face and feel by her aura that she was becoming more frustrated as the moments passed.

Finally, he reached out and took her hands, which she had balled into fists.  "Calmly, Ali," he said quietly, encouraging her hands to relax open.  "You're trying too hard.  Don't seek it as if it were running from you.  Stop, turn, and look -- it's closer than you think."

"I... I don't know..."

"Start with relaxation."  It had been many long years since Qui-Gon Jinn had trained a padawan, but he remembered the technique for guided meditation.  He talked her through each muscle group in her body, starting with her toes and working up to her head, encouraging her to feel them, tense and release them, and move on.

It was a tedious process, but one he knew worked.  He followed along with her, describing his relief in a relaxing monotone as he encouraged her to breathe in his pattern... deeply, rhythmically, in through the nose and out through the mouth.  Her eyelids fluttered shut and he could feel her stillness, like a deep blue pool, ready to welcome her.

A few moments later, she took one last deep breath and her eyes opened.  In her gaze was a kind of joyful wonder that made Qui-Gon smile in pleasure.  "I did it," she whispered, still caught in her calm center.

Cliadle had emerged from her meditations well before Aliamon had calmed, but had waited patiently, not willing to break the spell Qui-Gon was weaving.  When her sister opened her eyes and spoke, Cliadle embraced her, laughing and cheering her accomplishment.

"It's different... different than I thought it would be," Aliamon said, after they had all calmed down.  "I think that's where I went wrong -- I kept thinking it was something I had to search for, and it was there all the time."

"That's true of many things, your Grace," Qui-Gon replied.  He stood and gave a hand to each girl.  "When I was young, many, many..." he sighed theatrically, "many years ago..."  Cliadle giggled and he tweaked her nose gently, "the only thing I wanted to be was a Jedi.  I thought I had to work tirelessly, day in and day out, learning and practicing, studying and meditating.  I was such a solemn and busy person I didn't have time to look beyond the end of my boots.  Then one day, a wise person took me aside, and told me something which has always stayed with me."  The girls paused and turned to look at him, caught up in his story.  "She told me how ridiculous I looked, chasing after being a Jedi as if it were a race and I the only participant, and if I kept it up, I'd never make it."  He shook his head, remembering the irascible woman who ran the Temple library.  "I was devastated.  I thought she meant I couldn't become a Jedi.  Then she hit me on the side of my head and told me I already was a Jedi."  

Both girls blinked.  "She hit you?" Aliamon asked, looking almost affronted.  

"It wasn't unnecessary, I assure you.  I was a hard-headed child, your Grace."  He chuckled at their consternation and offered an arm to each.  "Allow me to escort you back, ladies.  I've been commanded to appear at your exalted mother's staff meeting, and while I'd prefer to stay out here with you, duty does call -- loudly."

Their path took them by Obion's door, which was closed.  Qui-Gon frowned as he neared it -- he could just hear voices in full shout.  Letting the girls go ahead of him, chatting about the lesson, he dawdled near the door, unashamedly listening.

"...WASN'T RAPE!"  It was Obion's voice, bellowing.

"A lover wouldn't have treated you that way!"  Maul's voice, and it sounded as though they'd been at it for some time.  Obion's voice was hoarse.

"He didn't mean to hurt me, dammit!  He loves me!"

"He doesn't give a duct-rat's ass about you, Obi, all he wants is the scepter!  If he can't have your mother, you'll do fine!"

"Stop it!  Stop it!  I won't have you saying that, damn you!"  Obion was beginning to sound frantic, beginning to sound... young.  Young and vulnerable.

"Obion you've got to listen to me, listen to your mother, you know we love you..."

"You don't know how to love, you freak!  You monster!  Leave me the fuck alone!"  Qui-Gon winced.  Maul was anything but those things, but the words had to hurt, which is probably exactly what Obion wanted.

There was the noise of a door slamming, then silence.

Qui-Gon walked back into the palace, frowning thunderously.

He was very nearly late for the meeting.  Luckily, Bellen had the meeting agenda loaded to a crystal which Qui-Gon put in his reader and skimmed while being led to the conference room.  He wasn't surprised to see the Dhro's capture of Naboo was a major topic of discussion.

A strangely subdued Terrell led him to the door of the conference room and turned to take a seat just outside, with the other pages.  When Qui-Gon entered, still engrossed in the agenda and also calling up the latest missive from the Temple, he didn't realize he was not alone until he heard a sharply indrawn breath from ahead of him.

He glanced up to see a long conference table dominating a room made cozy by its size.  There were no windows and the room felt soundproof; every step and word vanished into the thick, beautiful  woven hangings that covered the walls.  Already seated at the table were the Seneschal, the First Minister and his ward, Bruck Chun, and five other court councilors, all but one of whom Qui-Gon had met on his first full day in the palace.  It took him a moment to recall their names and functions, but he blamed that lack on seeing Palpatine's scowling face.

Nodding politely to the table at large, Qui-Gon pointedly took a seat as far from Palpatine and Chun as possible.  Instead, he sat near Finis Valorum, the Chancellor of the Coruscant Federation.  The Empress herself was not yet in the room.

Valorum nodded to him pleasantly.  "Good day, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon bowed his head.  "And to you, Chancellor Valorum.  I didn't know you were on Corellia."

"I arrived this morning," Valorum said with a sigh, "at the express wish of her Exalted Majesty.  The situation isn't good on Coruscant at the moment, and I was glad of the reprieve."  Valorum smiled weakly at Qui-Gon.  "I didn't know you were here.  It was something of a shock to find out a Jedi was living with the Sith."

"I can assure you, the shock is as much mine as yours, Finis."  Qui-Gon had worked with Finis Valorum in the past and liked the man.  He was stuck with the unenviable task of trying to keep the Coruscant Consortium, a loosely-tied body consisting of the various business concerns and federations which ran Coruscant, from blowing up each other or the planet.  "What's happening on Coruscant?  Or is that what you're here to relate?"

"That and other..."

Valorum was cut off by the door opening to admit the Empress, followed closely, of course, by Maul. Obion was understandably absent; there was an empty chair to the left of the Empress, between her and her First Minister.  Everyone stood and waited until she had taken a seat at the head of the table before sitting down again.  "You have all received a copy of the agenda, so we will not waste time," she began, her voice inflectionless and brusque. "Naboo has fallen to the Dhro, and Alderaan is undoubtedly next on his agenda.  We have asked Chancellor Valorum to Corellia for a report on Coruscant.  Please begin, Chancellor Valorum."

Valorum didn't rise, but he did clear his throat before speaking.  "Exalted Majesty; esteemed councilors.  The man who calls himself the mouth of the Dhro has been to Coruscant twice -- that I know of.  Against my express wishes, he has spoken before the entire Consortium once, though it was empty words."  He looked down at his datapad.  "I also know -- though I cannot say specifically how I know -- that he has spoken in private to the Trade Federation, the Banking Clan and the Techno Union."

"What is the pervading opinion about the Dhro, Chancellor Valorum?"

"That is a loaded question, Exalted Majesty."  Valorum rubbed his eyes and looked exhausted; Qui-Gon felt a burst of sympathy for the man.  Finis sometimes seemed to have infinite patience, but Qui-Gon knew that wasn't true.  "Officially, I have been told to extend every courtesy to the Dhro's envoy, short of conceding to his 'requests.'  Officially, the Consortium is not interested in anything the Dhro wants."

"And unofficially?"

Valorum's face was bleak.  "Unofficially... I believe at least three of the members of the Consortium have already thrown over to him and will not impede his conquest of Coruscant."  Yes, that came as no surprise to Qui-Gon, who had already figured as much.

"Exalted Majesty," Palpatine said, frowning, "I feel I must object.  It could hardly be called conquest if both parties agree to it.  Perhaps we're being alarmist over the situation."

"Alarmist?" The Empress' eyes were cold and her voice was hard.  "Explain."  Qui-Gon couldn't tell if she was upset with the man or his comments, and he frowned as Palpatine began to speak.

"All we know about the Dhro is secondhand.  We haven't heard from anyone who has actually dealt with him, personally -- just his envoy.  We have heard from our Jedi neighbors that Naboo has 'fallen' to the Dhro... but consider the source.  I find it difficult to believe the Jedi can be privy to more information than we are.  What proof do we have this is so?  News of  the Dhro's so-called conquests started less than five years ago.  I find it rather far-fetched one person could conquer several whole planetary governments in less than five years."

"The Dhro's forces have been massing and spreading for more than twenty years, Minister."  Maul's voice was flat.  "That is something I can attest to -- or do you doubt my veracity as you do the revered Jedi's?"

"Of course not, Maul," Palpatine said.  His voice was gentle and one step from condescending; it grated on Qui-Gon's nerves, and it wasn't even directed at him.  "I am merely trying to be the voice of reason here.  We should not act as if we are under attack when we may not be or indeed, may never be."

"Simply because the Dhro's envoy hasn't shown up here -- yet -- on Corellia, doesn't mean he won't," another minister said mildly.  "The Empress is quite right to be treating the situation proactively, especially now, when we have news the Dhro's contagion is spreading."

"But is it indeed a contagion?"  Palpatine turned his mild gaze on the man who had spoken.  "We are quick to use such words -- contagion, conquest -- but I wonder how true they really are, Mazen.  What exactly does the Dhro offer the worlds he has, in so many words, conquered?  Are those worlds actually better off?  Is it indeed conquest?"  He looked back to the Empress.  "We do not know the answers to these questions and perhaps it is time to pose them properly. I only counsel circumspection, Exalted Majesty."  Much to his displeasure, Qui-Gon found himself almost agreeing with Palpatine.  The one thing well-known about the Dhro was the size of his armed forces.  Circumspection might well be the better part of valor, in Corellia's case.

"What the Dhro offers is totalitarianism," Valorum said quietly.  "With himself at the forefront.  That is what the man who calls himself 'the mouth of the Dhro' said, Roberd.  I heard him myself."

"But, Finis."  Once again, Qui-Gon found the voice of the First Minister irritating.  "I'm sure that's what you thought you heard.  But what were his actual words?"

"I can get you a transcript of you want it, but his words were, join the Dhro's empire, one way or another, and revere him as leader."  Valorum leaned forward and tapped the table between himself and Palpatine.  "If you do not wish to join his empire, that's unfortunate for you, because you will be made to.  There is no choice offered, Roberd."

"And why is it bad to join the Dhro's empire?"  Palpatine looked around the table; the other councilors were frowning, but the Empress' face was as bare of emotion as the table.  "We are assuming quite a lot here, I believe."

"But Naboo..."  A different minister, an elderly man.  "Naboo has fallen, he has taken it.  We know this."

"We know it from our revered Jedi's intelligence," Palpatine replied gently.  "Which, I must say, I find suspect to a degree."  Qui-Gon took a deep breath but made sure none of the annoyance he felt showed on his face.

"Why would that be, First Minister?" the Empress asked.

"Because the Sith and the Jedi are age-old enemies."  He smiled toothily across the table at Qui-Gon.  "Present company excepted, of course.  We do not know whose side they are on, we have no way of confirming they are who they say they are, that they want what they say they do.  It comes down to trust.  We have no way of verifying their claims, none at all."

"And would you wait until we have refugees knocking at our door to do something, to take defensive measures?"  Maul was all but glaring at Palpatine.  "Would you wait until we have the Dhro breathing down our necks?  Or would you hand the Corellian system to him on a platter?"

"I merely counsel care, Lord Maul."  Qui-Gon could almost hear Maul's teeth grinding from where he sat, and wondered if Palpatine deliberately used the title to goad Maul.  "I know you have personal issues with the Dhro, and I do sympathize.  But this isn't about just you; it's about our whole world.  We must be cautious."

"I would remind the First Minister that Selonia is also in the Corellian system."  Qui-Gon kept his voice bland by dint of years of practice.  The man might have some good ideas, but Qui-Gon would be damned if he would voice any agreement to them.  "It is well within our interests to keep our system free of the Dhro."

"I'm sure it is."  Palpatine smiled sweetly, but his eyes were hard as Ilum crystals.  "And I would not presume to usurp the Jedi's position in this matter.  I speak only for Corellia."

"The Jedi's position in the matter is the Dhro must be stopped."  Qui-Gon smiled back at Palpatine -- two could play that game, and Qui-Gon had at least as many years of experience at it as Palpatine.  "He represents the greatest danger to our galaxy we have yet faced."

"You'll pardon me if I reserve judgment on that, Master Jinn."  Was that just a note of testiness?

"Roberd, you are playing dice with Corellia's autonomy if you continue in that vein."  Minister Mazen Toor again.  "I believe her Majesty's present course to be a good one.  We cannot be allowed to rest, to do nothing, to sit idly by while darkness gathers around us!"

"We understand your need for caution in this matter and will take such under advisement, First Minister."  The Empress' voice had passed well beyond hard and was bordering icy.  "But at this moment, we have no reason to doubt the Jedi's intelligence."  Palpatine inclined his head, graciously acknowledging her sovereignty.  "We have sent word to Alderaan, offering shelter to the Organa household.  We have not yet heard from Queen Amidala; she is still among the missing."

"Majesty, what news have you had from Alderaan?  Have they come under siege?"  With a start, Qui-Gon remembered Valorum was Alderaanian by birth.  "There has been little information from them, of late."

"The envoy of the Dhro, this man who calls himself the mouth of the Dhro, has made his third 'offer'," she replied, not without some sympathy -- so she knew of Valorum's heritage as well.  "We expect the offer, rather, the threat, will be rejected, which is why we have offered sanctuary to House Organa."  She glanced at Qui-Gon, then at Palpatine, though Qui-Gon could not discern her feelings at all.  "We have been led to believe the reason little news is escaping Alderaan is the Dhro has put a blockade around the system and is jamming most newsfeeds.  This has not been confirmed, however."

"If there's a blockade, how will House Organa get free of Alderaan?"  Yet another minister, whose question was echoed around the room.  "And could that be affecting Queen Amidala?"

"All we can do is hope.  As it has been driven home to us recently, where there is life, there is hope."  She raised one elegant eyebrow in Qui-Gon's direction.  "And there are always ways to get past blockades."

"Which begs the question, should we be taking more proactive measures in that direction?"  One of the younger ministers was speaking, Lord Sallish, as Qui-Gon remembered.  "And if we do take such measures, will it only bring us to the attention of the Dhro that much sooner?"

"I, for one, am not willing to paint a target on Corellia, and it seems to me we would be doing so by direct interference.  To speak the truth, I'm not even happy with giving sanctuary to House Organa, let alone Queen Amidala, for that very reason."  The minister, Lord Blelling, was speaking for the first time, and Qui-Gon wondered if he were in Palpatine's camp, or simply conservative in his thinking.

"The Dhro is sweeping across the galaxy, in a sharply defined pattern," Maul replied.  "We have no reason to believe he will change his course.  The Corellian system lies beyond Coruscant and, if he holds to pattern, we will be seeing this mouth person within the next few months."

"What of the rumors that the Hutts have already thrown in with him?"  Toor again.  "Is there any way we might be caught in the middle of a trap?"

The Empress looked at Qui-Gon to reply.  "We have been unable to confirm or deny the Hutts have entered into any type of treaty with the Dhro."  He sighed.  "We are hampered by the fact that we are being forced to pull out from wherever the Dhro is."

Several people frowned, including the Empress.  "Do you know why, Master Jinn?"

He looked down at the table -- he thought everyone knew of the pain the Jedi were experiencing.  "When the Jedi come near the Dhro's forces, the Jedi go missing, Exalted Majesty.  We must presume they are dead, since we can no longer sense them.  The Dhro apparently feels threatened by us for some reason.  We have taken the stance that wherever any of the Dhro's forces appear, the Jedi will return to the Temple at all speed."

"Why would the Dhro be killing Jedi?"  Valorum looked shocked an appalled, as did several of the ministers at the table.  Palpatine did not, though he did look puzzled, something that Qui-Gon noted absently.  "How could the Jedi possibly be posing some sort of threat to him?"

Qui-Gon spread his hands.  "I do not know, Finis, but I wish I did.  Those who have been taken were generally on diplomatic missions.  And the Dhro isn't saying why."

"We did not know this," the Empress said, her bland mask giving way to her concern.  "Though this changes nothing, it perhaps is another piece to the puzzle."  Qui-Gon frowned at her, and she continued.  "It is important to remember the Jedi are no longer warriors as much as they are diplomats.  Further, what are Jedi known for?  Using the Force."  There was a murmur at the table and several ministers gave Qui-Gon dark looks.  Qui-Gon was quite relieved that she had brought up the subject, not he.  "I cannot see the Dhro being threatened by diplomats, which leaves us to wonder why he would feel threatened by Force users?"

This was not a new argument to Qui-Gon, though he was surprised the Empress didn't know about the Dhro's apparent slaughter of Jedi.  "That is a question we have been asking for some time now, Exalted Majesty.  At first, we didn't realize what was happening.  But the team on Telos, one of the first worlds to fall to the Dhro, was able to get a message out before they were attacked.  They had been asked there specifically to help Telos deal with this new threat, the Dhro."  He sighed.  "That was over five years ago.  It has only gotten worse since then."

"Telos is almost unimaginably far from Corellia," Toor murmured.  "And it's some distance from Naboo, as well."

"It follows the pattern the Dhro has set," Maul said.  "He is sweeping in towards the core worlds in his quest for dominion.  Each planet he brings under his sway increases his strength.  I don't think he intends to stop until every civilized planet in the galaxy is under his power."

"There are planets beyond Corellia, not just those controlled by the Hutts.  Those living on Hoth or Bespin will be looking to us for leadership."  The Empress looked around the room slowly, carefully.  "Lord Blelling has the right of it: making Corellia into a target cannot be our goal.  However, we should not allow fear to color our decisions.  We have no plans of relinquishing our sovereignty to any being, under any circumstances.  If it is intended that Corellia be the finish of the Dhro, then that is, indeed, what will happen, and we will make every effort to complete that intention."

"Intended by whom, Exalted Majesty?"  Palpatine's question was delivered in a deceptively mild tone of voice.

The Empress stared at him through hooded eyes, and Qui-Gon was reminded of a beautiful but deadly serpent he had seen once in a zoological park.  "That is hardly within our purview to say, First Minister."

The rest of the meeting went much as the beginning had.  To Qui-Gon's count, roughly half of the ministers supported Palpatine's position of cautious neutrality, while the others argued for a proactive stance.  Qui-Gon could tell, while the Empress would listen and take into account the wishes of her councilors, she would, in the end, do as she wished.  Corellia was hardly a democracy, after all -- thank the Force for that.

Maul held him back as the meeting broke up in order to speak to him.  In little more than a murmur, he said,  "Please go to Obion's rooms; Dr. Pfelling is waiting for you."

Surprised, hoping it wasn't serious but dreading it might be, Qui-Gon simply nodded shortly, picked up Terrell and made his way quickly to the Heir's rooms.  Terrell tapped on the door and it was opened by a young man in the livery of the Empress.  "Galer, it's Master Jinn to see his Highness," Terrell said quietly.

"Oh!  Come in.  The doctor is expecting you."

Leaving his page with the heir's page, Qui-Gon moved back to the bedroom, where Dr. Pfelling was waiting for him.  "Doctor?"  Qui-Gon kept his voice pitched low; Obion seemed to be sleeping.  His color looked much better than it had earlier.  "We didn't get a chance to formally meet.  Qui-Gon Jinn, at your service."

"Master Jinn."  Dr. Pfelling's fringe of hair was both red and silver, and his face held many laugh lines.  Qui-Gon found himself almost instinctively trusting the man as they shook hands; he had an aura of good cheer and calm efficiency.  "Thank you for coming.  I understand I have you to thank for the fact that he ate and drank this morning, so I do.  Thank you, that is."

"How is he?"

"He's resting comfortably.  I have him under mild sedation -- he had a rather eventful afternoon, unfortunately."  The doctor sighed.  "He experienced a long, though shallow, rectal tear which has nearly healed.  I've just inserted another bacta suppository, but that was only as a precaution."  Dr. Pfelling rubbed his bald head.  "I'm more concerned about the shock, actually.  He didn't lose much blood, but he's showing signs of excessive trauma, and I don't know why."

Qui-Gon frowned.  "He was not injured in any other way?"

"No.  Not that I can tell, at any rate."  He took a deep breath and blew it out forcefully.  "He also will not tell me who hurt him, or under what circumstances.  I've taken samples -- he doesn't know that -- and I can go around and test every male in the palace, but he seems to think it was consensual..."

"Consensual?!"  Qui-Gon hissed, outraged.  So that's what the argument he overheard was about.  "How could what happened to him be considered consensual?"

Dr. Pfelling stared bleakly into Qui-Gon's eyes.  "He could think so if he were under a geas."

His jaw dropping, Qui-Gon blinked stupidly at the doctor.  "A... You think he's been put under a Force suggestion."

"If that's what you call it, then yes.  I delivered this boy, Master Jinn.  I know him inside and out.  I cannot imagine him agreeing to such abuse without putting up a fight.  And I definitely can't see him not talking to Adi about it.  They are very close."

"And he specifically asked for her not to be alerted," Qui-Gon said, swallowing hard as he looked at the young man on the bed.  

"It is not normal.  Not for him."  The doctor looked sad.  "Force use is illegal in the Empire, Master Jinn.  However, I know that doesn't necessarily mean anything to those who would use it for nefarious purposes.  I happen to know the entire royal family is Force-sensitive, and many of the common people are as well."  He looked into Qui-Gon's eyes, letting Qui-Gon see his worry.  "If he is under a geas, what you call a Force suggestion, can you break it?"

Qui-Gon hadn't felt quite so helpless since he had lost his last padawan.  "I..."  He swallowed.  "The mind-healers, at the Temple, they might.  I doubt I could do anything."

"Will you try?"  Dr. Pfelling's lips turned up in a wry, sad smile.  "I have nowhere else to turn. You are perhaps the only one on this planet trained in Force use, Master Jinn."

"Not the only one, apparently," Qui-Gon growled.  "I'll try.  I just don't know what good I'll do."

Sitting next to Obion on the bed, Qui-Gon reached for the young man's hand, cradling it in his own.  He took a deep breath, held it, and slowly let it go, while fighting to find his own calm center, his serenity, which was badly shredded by his anger at whoever had hurt this young man, the son of his friend, the Empress.

After some time struggling with it, he finally managed to release the emotions to the Force, which welcomed him joyfully into its heart.  Closing his eyes in order to feel, he sought Obion's beautiful, blue aura, the one he had seen before at dinner.  It was glowing peacefully as he rested, but there were still those strange, dark lines of taint, and some of them seemed deeper, almost embedded within his psyche.  He didn't know if he could affect them, though he found himself longing to touch the young man's aura.  

Taking another deep breath to further ground himself, he 'reached' with his metaphysical hands and plucked one of the strange, black strands.  

In the next instant, he found himself on the floor next to the wall.  He had an aching head and back and no idea how he came to be there.  Dr. Pfelling was staring at him in astonishment.

He was not willing to try anything else after what happened, mainly because he was worried how it might affect Obion.  Instead, he composed a lengthy description of the problem, addressed it to the Temple's healers, and had Maul send it personally.  Someone in the palace was a Force user, a Force abuser; someone was trying to subvert the heir to the Empress and now that he knew it, now that Maul knew it, it was only a matter of time before the villain was caught and destroyed.  Or worse.  But until the abuser was caught, Qui-Gon would be very careful in what he said and did.  The message to the Temple Healers was couched in the most general way, to avoid alarming anyone who might be listening in.

Qui-Gon thought the abuser was Palpatine, though he knew that might be his prejudices showing.  At any rate, it would not be either politic or tactful to make any accusations until further evidence was gathered.

There was little time left in the day, but Qui-Gon didn't think he could face another dinner without releasing some of the tension and frustration he felt.  So he quickly changed into some comfortable, raggedy clothing and had Terrell lead him to the room set aside for workouts, after asking Bellen to cancel any remaining appointments for the day.  Terrell was still strangely reticent, and as Qui-Gon began warming up, stretching muscles that felt cramped from too much care and worry, he finally decided to get to the bottom of it.

"Terrell, you do realize I can't read minds?"  When Terrell blinked at him in shock, he added, "If there's something bothering you, you'll have to tell me what it is.  That's the only way I'll find out."

"Oh!"  Terrell flushed and examined his feet very carefully.  "I'm sorry, Master Jinn.  I just... um..."  Terrell was obviously screwing up his courage for some reason, and it mystified Qui-Gon.  "Has... my service displeased you?"

It was Qui-Gon's turn to blink.  "No, of course not.  I've appreciated your help enormously." He shook his head in confusion.  "Why would you think otherwise?"

With an audible swallow, Terrell's eyes came back up, though they still wouldn't meet Qui-Gon's.  "I thought... when I came in, and you were with Sir Matrin... yesterday afternoon... and what you said..."

Ahh... so that was it.  "Terrell.  The Seneschal and I were discussing a wholly different topic.  I assure you, if I were displeased with your service, you would have known about it long before now."

"Oh."  Terrell's relief was palpable and Qui-Gon shook his head in amusement.  

"Don't let things build up like that, Terrell.  It's bad for your health."  He winked at his page who smiled weakly.  "If you intend to stay, please stay back, by the door.  I'll be using my lightsaber and I cannot have any distractions."

Terrell did stay, and Qui-Gon felt the young man's astonishment at the periphery of his concentration as he began the first kata in the third 'saber form.  It was a very athletic form and all the katas in it required significant exertion, both physically and mentally.  Qui-Gon let himself become immersed into the Force and felt all the cares of the day melt away as he leaped from form to form.  

He had resolved to do only the first half of the forms, since he knew he had dinner shortly and would need to shower and change before.  Somewhere in the middle of the penultimate form he would do, he felt the door open and another presence enter.  He knew Terrell would keep whoever it was back, and out of the way, so he continued.

By the end of the kata's middle form, he felt sweaty, sore and infinitely better.  He landed from the last aerial precisely where he intended to, his 'saber held ready, puffing with exertion.  Drawing deep breaths to settle his metabolism, he straightened, powered off his 'saber and stretched.  

"Wow."  Anikin's voice from the door had him turning.  Both Terrell and Anikin looked completely flummoxed.  Had their eyes been any bigger, they would have fallen out of their faces.

Walking in tight circles to cool down, Qui-Gon smiled at both his page and the heir.  "Wow, huh?"

"That was so utterly wizard," Anikin said in a voice that was hushed and awed.  "I wanna learn that.  I want to know how to do it.  Master Qui-Gon, please, can you teach me how to do it?"

"You're a bit too young for that particular kata, Ani," he replied with a smile.  "But I'll talk to your mother about it."

"You will?  Promise?  Wow."  Anikin was obviously taken with the whole idea.  "Can I see your lightsaber?"

"No."  Qui-Gon smiled gently at the boy's crestfallen face.  "It's a very dangerous weapon, Ani.  I have to be very careful with it."

"Oh, well."  Anikin was such an agreeable child, so much nicer than his younger sister, Maisen.  "I wanted to find you because you said I should talk to you about my dream."

"That's right," Qui-Gon said, remembering with a start.  The morning seemed a lifetime ago.  "I don't think I've got time now, though.  Terrell?"

"About a quarter hour to dinner, Master Jinn."  Terrell looked better too; the old cockiness was back and the shadows had left his eyes.  If only it were that easy with Obion, Qui-Gon thought with a sigh.

"Then I don't have time, Ani."  When the boy's face fell, Qui-Gon put his hand on Anikin's shoulder and squeezed gently.  "Will you come by after dinner?  I would like to talk to you about the dream, but I don't want either of us to be in a hurry."

"All right," Anikin agreed.  He took Qui-Gon's hand.  "I'll walk you back to your rooms."  

"Only if you're not skipping another class," Qui-Gon replied with a laugh.

Dinner was quiet.  Obion was absent, as were the other children, as well as Palpatine and his ward.  Qui-Gon wasn't certain if it were because of Obion being ill that the other children were allowed to eat elsewhere, but he appreciated not having to deal with Palpatine or his ward, Chun.  He sat to the left of the Empress, as he was getting used to, and made small talk with her or his companion to his left, Finis Valorum.

Back in his rooms, he found messages waiting for him from the Temple, left active by Bellen when she left for the day.  Two of them were from the Council, adding more detail to the situation on Naboo, and one was from the Healers, which he read and immediately realized would do him no good.  Anikin poking his head in the door gave him a welcome reprieve.

He came burdened with a tray on which rested two covered bowls.  "Jay said I should bring this, since he didn't want me to start gnawing on the furniture in hunger."  Anikin rolled his eyes as Qui-Gon took the tray and placed it on the sideboard.  "Jay is always making jokes, but I'm really hungry, Master Qui-Gon!"

"I'm sure you are, Ani.  You're probably going through a growth-spurt."  The bowls contained a frozen fruit confection and they sat on the couch to eat.

"Oh, I hope not," Anikin said with a sigh as he began shoveling the dessert down.  "I hate getting new clothes.  I just broke these in!"

"Perhaps if you paused between bites, it would fill you up faster," Qui-Gon suggested, holding back his chuckles.  

Despite rolling his eyes again, Anikin made an effort to slow down.  Even so, the food was gone quickly.  "Can I tell you about my dreams now?" he asked, putting his bowl on the low table before them.

"Of course.  Wait..."  Qui-Gon frowned.  "I thought you said dream.  Are you getting the same dream multiple times, Ani?"

"Uh-huh."  Anikin sighed.  "And they're really scary sometimes, too.  Mam says I should try to... to... take control of them.  But I can't.  Not always."

Qui-Gon nodded.  "That's called lucid dreaming, Ani.  It's a good technique to learn.  Tell me about the dream you had last night."

"Well, it's not all that scary to talk about, really," Anikin began slowly.  "I was just walking around, but the whole palace was falling apart, like it had been blown up or something.  And then I turned a corner and... and... I saw mam.  She was lying on the ground, and I think she was dead."  Ani swallowed and Qui-Gon pulled him in for a hug.  "But the weirdest thing was, I was glad she was dead."  He looked up at Qui-Gon with anxious eyes.  "I don't want mam dead, Master Qui-Gon, really."

"I know, Ani, I know."

"Anyway, so I turned around and starting walking the other way, and then Obi was there.  He had a lightsaber, like yours, only his was red."  Qui-Gon had to hold his start of surprise in at those words.  "And when I saw him?  I was mad.  Mad at him.  So I turned on my lightsaber too.  And mine was red too."  He looked up at Qui-Gon.  "I don't really like red.  I think your green one is really pretty."

"Jedi don't use red lightsabers, Ani."  To himself, he added, only Dark Force users have red lightsabers.  Once upon a time, Sith did as well.

"Oh.  Well, I didn't like the red one.  It made me think of blood, and I don't really like that."

"I understand," Qui-Gon murmured.  "What happened next?"

"Well, not much, really.  That's why I don't really understand why the dreams scare me so much.  Usually, I just meet someone, turn on a red lightsaber and fight them.  Most of the time, it's Obi."  Anikin sighed.  "And I guess that's scary, because I really love Obi, and I would never want to hurt him."

"Dreams are very strange things, Anikin," Qui-Gon said, while part of his mind filed the information away for further thought.  "They don't always mean what we think them to mean."  Unless they're prophetic.

"So does it mean that it isn't important?  That they're just nightmares, brought on by eating too much sweet stuff before I go to bed like Nanny Brom says?"

"I think that's probably the case," Qui-Gon lied.  "But let's agree to this.  If you have another one, you can always tell me about it, and we'll try to decide if it's important or not."

"Oh.  That would be good," Anikin said.  "Mam gets upset when I wake up in the middle of the night, when she knows I haven't been sleeping good-- well.  And I hate to get her upset, she's so busy, you know?"

"Yes, I do know," Qui-Gon replied, giving Anikin another hug.  "I'll be glad to tell her that you're working on them with me, and perhaps that'll help her rest too."

"Thanks, Master Qui-Gon, thanks a lot!  It'll help Mam."

"You're welcome, Ani."

They talked about inconsequential things for a while -- Anikin's models of various spaceships and how he loved building them, Qui-Gon's lightsaber and how it worked, what Qui-Gon was teaching the older girls -- then there was a tap on the door.  When Qui-Gon called enter, Maul came in.

"Ah, I thought I'd find you here," he said to Anikin with a smile.

"Oh no, is it late?  I got a paper to finish," Anikin said, scrambling off the couch.

"It's not that late, and your mother would like to see you before you go to your rooms, Ani."  Maul looked so much more at ease now, and Qui-Gon was glad to see it.  No longer the frightening bodyguard, he had become a person, a friend, to Qui-Gon.  "And I have to talk to Master Jinn."

"All right.  Thanks, Maulie.  Thanks, Master Qui-Gon."  With fast hugs to both of them, Anikin raced out of the suite.

"His perpetual motion makes even me tired," Maul commented with a sigh.

"He's a wonderful child."  Qui-Gon chuckled.  "So... different from Maisen.  I think he got all the charm, leaving little for her."

Maul sank into the chair opposite Qui-Gon with a groan.  "Don't even bring her up, please."  They both chuckled, but Maul's laughter felt forced and tired.  

"She'll find her path, eventually."  Qui-Gon leaned back.  "I hope.  You look exhausted, my friend."

Maul nodded shortly, acknowledging Qui-Gon's words.  "I know you've heard from your Temple, but I haven't had an opportunity to talk to you since you sent your message earlier today."  Maul gave him a shrewd look.  "Dr. Pfelling told me what happened between you and Obion, but I don't understand it, and neither does he."

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Qui-Gon leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.  "Maul, his aura has been compromised."  Maul looked startled for a moment, then he narrowed his eyes.  "I noticed it my first night here, but it's worse now.  And Dr. Pfelling says that, according to Obion, what happened to him was consensual.  It was not."

"Is that why you sent the message to the healers at the Temple?"

"Yes."  Qui-Gon sighed.  "They're no help, unfortunately.  They just confirm the symptoms described are that of a strong Force suggestion, an attempt at Force control.  Your doctor called it a geas.  That's not far from the truth."

Shaking his head, looking both confused and angry, Maul leaned forward as well.  "Explain it to me, please.  I know of the Force, I've been trained -- to a point -- in its use.  But it was a long time ago and there's much about my life then I don't remember."

"The Dhro?"

Maul nodded.

"Would that you had more training," Qui-Gon murmured.  "My suspicion is someone here, in the palace, a member of the court, is a Dark Force user.  I don't know who it is.  Whoever it is has managed to severely compromise Obion's aura and has almost superseded his will.  It's not unheard of -- I've studied texts in the Temple that talk of it -- but it hasn't been seen like this in hundreds or even thousands of years.  Not since Exar Kun, not since the Jedi-Sith wars."

"Exar Kun is who caused the rift, wasn't it?"  Maul was giving Qui-Gon his undivided attention, a formidable thing.  

"Partially."  Qui-Gon sighed again and frowned.  "The Jedi have always used the Force, but never for gain, never for ill-purpose.  The Sith, as a race, have always been Force-sensitive in large numbers, and  back then, many Sith became Jedi.  Some remained Sith and untrained, some Sith were nearly Force-blind."  He spread his hands and Maul nodded, indicating he should continue.  "But then there were some Jedi -- and some Sith -- who discovered the allure of the Dark Force, the siren song of total control.  They used the Dark Force in an attempt to take over both the Jedi and the Sith... and the galaxy, as well.  It took the combined might of both Jedi and Sith to defeat those who had gone over, those who had descended to the Dark.  There were only two of them -- Exar Kun and his master, Freedon Nadd -- but two was more than enough to cause significant damage."  Maul nodded again; he was familiar with this.  "But when the war was won, we found it wasn't, actually, because the Sith blamed the Jedi for allowing the Dark Force users to arise in the first place."

"Which is why the Jedi and the Sith split," Maul murmured.  "And why the Sith have outlawed the use of the Force."

"Exactly."  

"But now, there's another Dark Force user?"

"User or users."  Qui-Gon fell silent for a moment, ordering his thoughts.  He hated this, hated knowing this Dark Force user might destroy the fragile peace between the Jedi and the Sith.  It was made all the more poignant because he knew, all too well, that it might take the combined strength of the Jedi and the Sith to once again prevail against such a being.  There was a reason why they were demonized in stories of the time.  "There's a saying: always there are two.  Generally, a Dark Force user will take... will have... an apprentice, so that if you have eliminated one, the other will still present a threat."  He spread his hands.  "During the war, Kun and Nadd corrupted hundreds, thousands of people, Jedi and Sith, but once they were both gone, the corruption basically disappeared and the threat from those compromised disappeared as well."

"How could this have happened without our knowledge?"  Maul sounded angry, and Qui-Gon thought, well, he should be.

"What would you look for?"  He spread his hands, helplessly.  "You don't allow Force training, Force usage.  The Sith have banned it, but all that means is a Dark Force user can hide, can infiltrate, more easily, because no one guards against it.  I can tell you're Force-sensitive: very much so.  And I can tell all the heirs and the Empress herself -- they are all very Force-sensitive, and have a native talent for using it.  They might have gone mad otherwise.  But it's not trained, it's not honed."  He made a frustrated noise.  "And mine is, but I still can't sense who it is because he's gone too far underground and hidden himself too well!"

Maul jumped up and began pacing, and Qui-Gon could almost hear his teeth grinding.  "I do not like the idea that I am helpless here," he growled.  "It is very difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that I can do nothing to help my -- the Empress and her family."

"I can assure you, my friend, I like it as little as you do."  Unbidden, the pale face of Obion rose before him and his heart clenched.  

"There must be something we can do."

"Short of training the Empress' children to be Jedi, I don't know what it is."

Maul froze and turned to him slowly, a dawning hope in his eyes.  "Trained as Jedi."

Startled, Qui-Gon back-pedaled sharply.  "Maul, I cannot take on five children as padawans.  That's... that's absurd!  And all of them, except maybe Anikin and Maisen, are too old to train properly.  Not only that, but Force use is illegal on Corellia."

"Not any longer."  

Qui-Gon swallowed.  He knew what Maul was asking him, and it frightened him, worried him, made him wonder if he were up to the challenge.  When he spoke, he could tell his voice sounded strangled.  "You're asking a lot from me, my friend."

"I know."  Maul once again sat opposite him.  "I know."  His heart was in his eyes, and Qui-Gon could feel his frustration and worry.  Qui-Gon had been raised almost since birth to help people, to aid those in need.  He was almost constitutionally incapable of walking away from a situation where he could help.

"Let me sleep on it," Qui-Gon finally said, in a murmur.  

Maul  nodded.  "The Empress has requested you at breakfast in the morning.  I'll see you there."

Qui-Gon didn't reply.  Maul let himself out, and Qui-Gon went about his evening routine, though it took him a long, long time to fall asleep.