A Young Girl's War Between the Stars [Youjo Senki/Star Wars]

92

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars92

Hyperspace, en route from Kamino to Serenno. 33 BBY/967 GSC.

Standing under the gloriously warm water shower, I sighed as I leaned against the wall of the shower stall, letting the water hammer over me and enjoying a moment of quiet serenity. For a few perfect moments, there was just peace.

The feel of my heartbeats and my pulse in my ears. The sound of my breathing and water hitting my body and the stall. The smell of soap, shampoo, and the humidity. The feel of the cool air outside the shower stall leaking in and occasionally teasing my bare flesh. The faint, constant hum of the power plant carried through my feet and where my forehead touched the tile, carrying through my bones and filling my body with a familiar, comfortable feeling. The feelings of the hundreds of people who made the ship their home going about their lives—working, eating, sleeping, or enjoying each other’s company—all filled with shared purpose, confidence, and a low level of excitement. The feel of the Force around me, drawn into the ship and lapping against me, like standing in the middle of a river, as I kept my senses retracted while we were in hyperspace.

Not too far away, I could feel Asajj in her room, meditating as she lay in bed trying to sleep. I could feel the girl’s excitement and impatience and practically hear her thoughts. She was ready to get home and see her friend and sort-of sister after a bit more than a year of being apart.

Admittedly, I was eager to get back as well. For all that she sometimes annoyed me, I had missed the rambunctious girl. I was sure she had enjoyed herself though, finally getting to spend time with her father when she had missed so much before, due to necessity.

It was still hard to believe that I had only been their Master for three years—from their perspective, as my four year vacation shouldn’t be counted towards that time. Though I supposed that Allaya was a year behind Asajj on that, given the year we had spent on Anaxes.

I mused, reaching out and shutting off the shower.

Stepping out, I pulled my towel over with the Force and wiped off the bathroom mirror. What I saw brought a smile to my lips.

My skin was back to its natural red color, as opposed to the white it had been after the skinjob I’d been forced to get. Focusing on it, I felt the new additions courtesy of the Kaminoans—what felt like minute muscles beneath every inch of my skin that I could contract, relax, flex, and set at will. Giving them a squeeze, I watched my skin quickly shift from red, to orange, yellow, Caucasian white, white as a complete lack of pigmentation, then into the blue spectrum, from light blue to dark blue, and from there into green from light to dark. Different combinations of red, green, and blue gave me a variety of colors and combinations to choose from. Relaxing, my skin quickly snapped back to the its natural ‘default’ coloration. I wasn’t a cuttlefish, I couldn’t mimic my surroundings with that sort of accuracy, but I could do with what I had now.

Grabbing my combs and brush with the Force, I went to work on my hair—once more returned to its previous length and color. Unfortunately, while the Kaminoans work out modifications to allow me to change the color of my hair, it would only affect what hadn’t grown in yet. So, for that, I had to rely on either cutting it off and regrowing it the correct color, or what I had done this time—growing it out in its natural color, then using sorcery to change the blonde to white to match the rest. It was much more efficient than cutting it off and growing it back out.

It was nice to be back in my own skin, so to speak. The year spent living as my other identity hadn’t been , but it was a bit stressful, constantly being on the lookout for anyone who may have discovered the truth. How it took them so long to figure it out, I wasn’t quite sure.

When I first entered the academy I had made the rounds, introducing myself to the mid-level functionaries that kept the place running, with tithes of caff and donuts. Then I had quietly interrogated them with a few probing questions and a bit of nudging from the Force. I kept those relationships up over the duration of my stay there, keeping an ear to the ground to ensure I had some warning if something happened. There had been no alerts, no suspicion, nothing to tip them off as far as I could tell.

If the Republic Intelligence officer who had barged in on my graduation ceremony had been telling the truth though, an alert gone out—at a higher level than the people I had ingratiated myself to. It was only through luck, or perhaps incompetence, that the alert had been missed somehow. I had already drawn up a few modifications to our own protocols to ensure we never suffered that sort of oversight and forwarded them to Xana, Jenza, and Satine to implement.

Shaking my head, I finished with my hair, tying it into a single braid at the back and tying it off. Tossing the towel into the laundry hamper, I grabbed the black silk robe I’d left hanging and pulled it on before heading out into my quarters.

Opening the small liquor cabinet in the corner for guests, I considered the few bottles in my modest collection and selected a bottle of . I poured myself a glass over ice, put the bottle back, and picked my datapad up off the nightstand before climbing into bed and settling in to read the latest reports. There was the usual quarterly report from Capt. Taris, some intelligence reports from Xana, and something from Jaster.

Choosing the last one, I skimmed over it as I sipped my drink, nodding along as I read. As soon as I’d met up with the , I had sent off my notes taken during my year of study and a paper summarizing everything into what I believed would become the core of a training program for new Confederate Navy officers based on the things I had learned and observed during my time on Anaxes. The cut down experimental course Capt. Tarkin had apparently been brought in to head up was pretty much perfect for our needs. It had all of the fat trimmed off and had been distilled down into what every senior officer needed to know to run a ship.

We would, of course, be changing a few things—adapting them to our needs, situation, ships, and how we expected the Republic to react to a peer force—but for the most part, most of the lessons were so general that they applied almost universally. Jaster had put the notes and paper I had written in front of a group of captains and the instructors at our own academy on Mandalore and they were currently going over it and working on putting something together.

I nodded, before moving on to the next.

My quiet evening in was interrupted by the ringing of my personal holocom. Pulling it over from my desk, I checked the ID of the caller and raised an eyebrow. I checked to make sure I was presentable before answering. “Qui-Gon,” I nodded to the man on the other end of the line, smiling. “It’s good to see you.”

“You as well, Tanya,” he nodded, but I noticed the man’s usual jovial and easygoing attitude was entirely gone.

I sat up a bit straighter before asking, “This isn’t just a social call, is it?”

“I’m afraid not. I need your help.”

“Of course. You’ll have it,” I agreed with a nod. “Where, and with what?”

“It began with a distress call from Knight Mana Veridi, who was on a mission to investigate a disturbance on Kwannot, at the request of the Senate. We have since discovered a plot to assassinate Jedi Masters and lone Knights, and kidnap and enslave Padawans.”

“…And you weren’t warned of this ahead of time?” I asked, and he shook his head.

“There have been some rumors going around about someone targeting Jedi, but most of those reports have been attributed to the Sith,” he explained, and I resisted the urge to wince.

I didn’t like the idea, but it was unfortunately not just plausible, but likely.

Master Qui-Gon continued, “According to Knight Veridi, she had no reason to believe that the incidents may be related to her mission. An assassin tried to kill her when we met, and it was only luck that we managed to prevent Knight Veridi from dying in the initial strike. She was injured, but joined Obi-Wan and I in pursuing the assassin. We’ve followed her into Hutt space, to Nar Shaddaa, but our investigation has stalled.”

“Why not call one of the other Jedi from the Temple?” I asked, curious but not opposed to taking on the mission.

Master Qui-Gon smiled. “You were here, not too long ago. Given the danger, I was wondering if you would lend a hand?”

I eyed him skeptically. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”

“I believe it would do Obi-Wan some good, to work beside her friend again.” He paused, before quietly adding, “And reassure her that you still a friend. She has been ill at ease for some time now.”

“Ah. I see,” I murmured, nodding. Considering it for a moment, I said, “I’m not far from there. A few days, perhaps. I’ll change course and come find you.”

“Thank you. I’ll send you the details.”

We said our goodbyes and I hung up, before dialing up the bridge. “This is Mereel. Change of plans. Make for Nar Shaddaa. Make sure we’re not seen entering the system by their security forces.”

Once my order was acknowledged, I put away the holocom and finished off my drink, before settling in to sleep.

Nar Shadda. 33 BBY/967 GSC.

“Sure you don’t need me? Remember the last time you were here, boss,” Cindy smirked as Asajj filed into the and I finished my last checks on what I thought I might need.

I sent the blonde an amused look. “I think we’ll manage.”

“And I think we should treat it as a hostile insertion. I can have my armor on and be back down here in ten minutes,” Aylin countered.

“It’ll be fine.”

The pair shared a look, before Aylin turned away and walked off at speed. Over her shoulder, she said, “I’ll have a team of marines put on standby and move the into a better position to use the guns to cover your escape.”

I watched her hurry away and frowned. “It’s like you think things are going to devolve into a firefight as soon as I get involved.”

“That’s because they know you, Master,” Asajj called from the ship’s hatch. I turned my attention on the girl, and she fled back inside with a quiet, “Not live fire training!”

By the time I turned around, Cindy had finished sealing her bright yellow and red vac suit and pushed past me, heading into the ship. “I said—”

“It’s fine~!” the blonde mechanic waved me off as she settled into the co-pilot’s chair and began prepping for takeoff.

Arthree beeped as he rolled past me and up into the ship. “Not you too,” I grumbled, following him inside and sealing the hatch, before making my way up front as Arthree slotted himself into the droid socket. “Fine. You can come. But I don’t know how long this mission is going to last and , so you’re staying on the ship.”

“Confining me to quarters, huh? I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing. I’ll keep it in mind,” she winked, starting the ship’s engine.

I rolled my eyes and flipped on our hologram projector, disguising us as a small yacht. We went through the usual checks and confirmations with the and quickly launched, slipping into one of the traffic lanes and heading for the glowing orange moon.

I reinforced my mental shields as we entered the moon’s atmosphere, on track for the coordinates Master Qui-Gon had given me. Soon enough, we were approaching one of the multitude of skyscrapers that made up the ecumenopolis moon—the building well lit and glowing like a beacon in the night as we followed the landing lights in through a force field in the side of the building. Following the nav beacon, I flew us over to where Master Qui-Gon’s ship for this mission was parked.

Setting down beside it, I left handling the rest to Cindy and unstrapped, heading back as Asajj quickly unbuckled as well. “Cindy—”

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“I’ll keep the engine running, boss,” she promised, and I nodded.

“Arthree, keep an eye on things. Make sure no one approaches the ship.”

The droid beeped in confirmation and I hit the button for the ramp. Exiting the ship, I looked around as Asajj sealed the ship up behind us. Not seeing Qui-Gon anywhere, I took out my holocom and started to call him, only for a feeling in the Force to make me hesitate. It was a minute tremor—barely there. Just a feeling of unease. Wariness.

Putting the holocom away, I instead cast my senses about, then turned for the elevator that would take us to the roof. Following along, Asajj asked, “Wasn’t he supposed to meet us here, Master?”

“He was,” I confirmed. “The fact that he’s not means the situation has changed. It’s possible that we’ve simply caught him on a restroom break, or going to get food, but somehow I doubt it.”

The ship they had traveled here in was pretty standard for the Jedi—a cheap, converted cargo hauler. It had all the amenities one could want for spending a prolonged amount of time in space. There was no reason for him to leave, unless he really wanted to eat the trash Nar Shaddaa called food, or it was mission related.

We exited out of the elevator onto the roof, where I spotted a droid taxi speeder service. Making my way over, I pulled out my holocom and called up an image of Qui-Gon. Holding it up in front of the droid nearest the exit, I asked, “Excuse me. Have you seen this man?”

There was a pause as the droid’s eyes and mouth clinked, before it asked, “Who wants to know?”

“A friend,” I answered, frowning at the attitude.

“Ehh, what’s in it for me?”

I blinked, staring at the mouthy droid. “…What could you possibly want, for simply answering a question?”

“How about a little respect!”

There was a flash of danger from behind us and I spun around at the same time as Asajj, both of us drawing our lightsabers as a third ignited, glowing pink. The woman holding it was a human or very near human who looked to be in her twenties or so, with red hair and brown eyes. Her left arm ended in a wrapped stump just below the elbow and the right one, holding the lightsaber, shook slightly as she looked to be fighting her pain as she held it up.

“Why are you looking for Master Qui-Gon and why do you Mandos have lightsabers?” she demanded looking between me and Asajj.

Studying her, I lowered my saber a few degrees. “Knight Veridi?” I asked, and her eyes narrowed. “I’m Knight Mereel, this is my Padawan, Asajj. Qui-Gon sent for me.”

Her eyes snapped back to me and I felt a brief thrill of fear and anger. “The traitor?”

I shut off my lightsaber and slipped it onto my belt. Asajj lowered hers and shut it off, but held onto it out of an abundance of caution, given the redhead’s was still on. Stepping closer and forcing the woman to pull her saber back or have it contact my armor, I demanded, “Are we here to talk about galactic politics, or are we here to deal with an assassin?”

She considered me for a moment before finally shutting off the lightsaber. “Fine. We’ll deal with that later,” she agreed, putting the weapon away, but I could sense that she hadn’t let it go and fully intended to confront me on it once the situation was resolved. “This way.”

We followed her back down into the building, to Qui-Gon’s ship. Once we were securely inside, she collapsed onto a couch in the small rec room with a sigh. Her good hand drifted to her stump as she winced in pain. “Obi-Wan got tired of waiting and left,” she began explaining, as I reached up and removed my helmet and Asajj sat down across from her. “Qui-Gon went after her.”

I took a breath and let out a quiet curse. Sitting down beside the woman, I reached for her stump and she pulled away. Meeting her eyes, I raised an eyebrow. “Let me see it.”

She frowned and looked away, but offered the stump. I carefully unwrapped it and found about what I expected—a cauterized stump from a lightsaber, which had been cleaned and coated in bacta, but not properly treated. “Asajj, go find the medical bay. Bring me bacta and fresh bandages.”

The girl popped up and hurried away down the corridor. Eyes closed, the redhead asked, “How bad is it?”

Cupping my hands to either side of it, I reached out with the Force using a diagnostic technique and hummed. “You have the beginnings of an infection. The charred areas need to be removed. It shouldn’t be difficult to get a prosthetic or a replacement.”

The redhead sighed, relaxing somewhat. “…Thanks.”

I nodded and Asajj returned with the supplies. Using a mage blade, I began carefully cutting away the burned parts and healing what I could as I dealt with the infection. After a few minutes, Knight Veridi apparently couldn’t maintain her silence any more. “You betrayed the Order and the Republic, so why are you here treating me? You know I’m obligated to try to arrest you and bring you before the High Council for judgment.”

I scoffed. “Firstly, you’re in no condition to fight me, and even if you were you would lose.”

“You’re not that good—”

“I’ve fought one Master to a standstill and killed another who was highly combat focused. Do you honestly think you’re better than Master Krell?” I asked, and the woman’s silence was all the answer I needed. “Did the High Council declare me a traitor?”

For a moment, I felt uncertainty from the woman. “No, but that’s— You left the Order and you’re working for the Separatists, so that’s kind of the definition of a traitor.”

“But neither the Grand Master, the Master of the Order, nor the Jedi High Council have declared me as such, publicly and officially?”

“I don’t see why that matters—” she tried, but I cut her off.

“”

Knight Veridi let out a sigh. “No. They haven’t done it officially yet.”

“Mm. Do you know why I left?”

She shrugged with her good shoulder. “Your Master betrayed the Republic and convinced a bunch of Outer Rim planets to secede because they weren’t getting what they wanted in the Senate and you followed him. Then when Master Pong Krell tried to arrest you, you killed him.”

My jaw clenched, but I kept the frustration I felt out of my technique as I continued working on her arm. “I see the rumor mill is hard at work,” I shook my head. “The planets that seceded did so after hundreds, and in some cases of years of the Senate stonewalling them on issues that boiled down to the Republic squeezing them harder for more taxes and not doing their duty in sending assets to protect them from pirates, raiders, and other problems, because addressing those problems would cost money they didn’t want to spend and the agreements signed after the Ruusan Reformation meant they couldn’t raise their own fleets to deal with it themselves. So we seceded. We’ve built our own fleets. And wouldn’t you know it, we’re no longer plagued by pirates are we suffering from an unjust tax burden. The Republic failed the Confederate planets first. They broke their oaths first. It’s not a betrayal at that point, it’s disregarding a bad contract that only benefits one party.”

Knight Veridi made to open her mouth but I continued, speaking over her. “As for the Order and myself, you clearly know about the situation. Master Krell attempted to kidnap and threatened my Padawans and an uninvolved civilian to use them as leverage to force me to surrender. I killed him for it. No other Jedi have been sent to attempt to apprehend or eliminate me. By your own admission neither the Grand Master, the Master of the Order, nor the High Council have made any sort of official statement or given any official orders regarding attempting to detain, arrest, or eliminate either myself or Master Dooku. That should tell you all you need to know about how they want this handled.

“Master Qui-Gon called for my help and I came, without reservation.” Opening the tube of bacta, I squirted it over the wound and the woman hissed at the cold. “And need I remind you, I am currently rendering medical aid in your time of need. Do those sound like the actions of a traitor, or an enemy of the Order to you?”

The woman fell silent at that and I felt the conflict within her as her mind churned. I let the issue lie and asked, “Where did Obi and Qui-Gon go? As soon as I’m done treating you, I’ll go after them.”

Knight Veridi sighed, but in the end she told me everything she knew about where they had gone. “…But you have to be careful. The assassin is on the hutt’s payroll. She’s… she’s really good. I felt the Force from her. She’s had training using the Force and has combined it with her assassination skills. She can hide her presence in the Force until the moment she’s ready to strike.”

Nodding, I asked, “What does she look like?”

“Near-human. Maybe half Umbaran or Rattataki. Chalk white skin. Bald, save for a ponytail of red hair. She’s got some kind of neural implant. She was using a lightsaber.”

“I see,” I murmured.

…

“We’re going. Stay here and rest. Doctor’s orders,” I said, before using a medical technique to render her asleep before she could complain.

Picking the woman up, I carried her back to what felt like her quarters in the ship, removed her boots, and laid her out on her bed. Pulling the blanket over her, I left her there and gathered my helmet. I pulled it on as Asajj asked, “What’s the plan, Master? Should I stay, or…?”

“You’re coming,” I shook my head, heading for the hatch leading outside. “And the plan is simple: we meet up with Qui-Gon, ascertain the situation, and then adjust our plan. As for dealing with the assassin…” I smiled under my helmet. “Tell me, Padawan. What do we do about glaring weaknesses?”

“Exploit them.”

“Good. Now, let’s go find Master Qui-Gon.” The knuckles of my hands cracked as I squeezed them, remembering what awaited on the roof, and I leered. “There’s a droid I need to perform some… on.”

Sitting in a rented speeder, Qui-Gon focused on his surroundings, feeling them with the Force as he listened to the audio coming from the transmitter Obi-Wan wore. He felt a somewhat large Force signature approaching, along with a much more subtle one hidden just below it. The first brought to mind the young blonde girl Tanya had taken in. The odd feeling in the Force around her had faded somewhat with time, the feeling of… he almost called it having mostly gone, as though some danger had passed. The other was the familiar feeling of Tanya herself—somehow, after all these years, still perfectly balanced on the knife’s edge between light and dark.

He smiled as he heard a speeder set down nearby and opened his eyes, seeing the armored forms of Tanya and one of her Padawans getting out. He climbed out of his own speeder and made his way over, meeting them in the middle.

“Qui-Gon,” Tanya nodded, the girl beside her echoing, “Master Qui-Gon.”

“Tanya. It’s good to see you. I wasn’t expecting you quite this soon.”

The young woman nodded. “I came as soon as I could. I’ve spoken with Knight Veridi already and been appraised of the situation. Where is Obi?”

Qui-Gon motioned for them to follow, turning and walking to one of the large, transparisteel windows overlooking the building next door. “There. That is the fortress-tower of Tol’la Besadii Taba the Hutt. Tol’la is a mildly successful hutt crime lord, currently working to overthrow his cousin Durga Besadii Tai, for control of the Besadii kajidic, which is—”

“Their ‘business enterprises.’ A euphemism for something that’s one part clan, one part criminal organization, which may or may not actually be involved in legitimate business practices,” Tanya supplied. Qui-Gon sent her a raised eyebrow and she shrugged. “I had some downtime, after the last time I was here. I dislike not being able to understand a conversation going on right in front of me because some smug worm has decided he’s too good for Galactic Standard, so I learned.” He could practically hear her lips curl as she grumbled, “It’s disgusting and tastes filthy on the tongue.”

Chuckling, Qui-Gon nodded. “I don’t particularly enjoy it myself. It has a feel to it, as though it were tainted with the dark side.”

“Noticed that too, did you?” she asked, before shaking her head. “But we’ve gotten off course. How large is the enemy force?”

Thinking back to his reconnaissance of the building from the exterior, Qui-Gon answered, “By my estimate, no more than two hundred in the building, with perhaps fifty on duty at any time.”

“I don’t like those numbers. Not for any kind of stealthy insertion and extraction,” Tanya grumbled. “I take it Obi-Wan made her way inside? How? Sneaking through the vents…?”

“Oh no. She went in through the front door.”

He could hear the frown as she asked, “How?”

Qui-Gon wished she weren’t wearing her helmet, if only so he could see her reaction when he told her, “Why, with the rest of the slaves, of course.”

Tanya went still for a moment, before slowly asking, “So right now she’s inside, unarmed, surrounded by enemies, and pretending to be a slave? ”

“Agreed? No,” he shook his head. “She insisted, however.”

“”

Qui-Gon sighed. “Because we need answers, and it’s possible that Tol’la has them. Someone has been orchestrating the killing of Jedi and the kidnapping of Padawans. Between him and the assassin, Tol’la the Hutt is the easier of the two to reach. After all, we know where he is,” he said, gesturing at the building across the street.

“Very well. Then I—”

There was a flash of danger in the Force just an instant before the sound of a lightsaber filled the air. Qui-Gon turned, drawing and activating his own saber just in time to see the assassin who had nearly killed Mana Veridi shove her lightsaber through Tanya’s back and out the front of her chest.

For just a moment, a single heartbeat, everything was still.

Tanya wavered, dissipating into the ether. At the same time, a white-silver lightsaber ignited mid-swing as Tanya snapped into visibility, to the right and slightly behind where she’d been standing. The assassin’s head turned as she started moving, trying to leap away and draw her arms back as Asajj likewise faded from where she was standing and snapped back into reality, in the middle of a slide at the assassin’s legs—grass green and sky blue sabers igniting as she swung.

Three blades made contact and Qui-Gon watched as the bald assassin spun through the air before landing face down. Four thumps sounded as her limbs hit the ground around her. Tanya shut off her lightsaber and snagged the assassin’s own yellow lightsaber up from the ground with the Force, shutting it off.

Qui-Gon shut off and put away his saber, kneeling and checking the woman’s pulse. Finding her alive, if unconscious, he rolled her over and searched her body for weapons—quickly winding up with quite a pile of them. Looking up to where Tanya and her Padawan were checking to make sure there were no other threats, he asked, “Did you have to go this far?”

“I going to go for the decapitation strike, but you said we needed her alive to get answers out of her,” Tanya pointed out.

“Yes, I suppose I should thank you for holding back,” Qui-Gon said, letting a bit of sarcasm slip into his tone.

Picking up on it, the young woman’s voice turned chipper as she replied, “Look on the bright side. She’s travel-sized now.”

“.”

“I’ll open the speeder’s trunk, Master.”

Tanya nodded. “Good thinking, Padawan.”

“…What have you been teaching those girls?” Qui-Gon asked, even as he picked the woman up and carried her to the speeder. To his chagrin, she did in fact fit rather well in the trunk.

“Life skills. Now, do you have a plan for extracting Obi-Wan, or should I just go in guns blazing?”

Qui-Gon chuckled. “The plan was to improvise and trust in the Force.”

Taking a breath, she let it out in a sigh. “If I have to call for that marine contingent, they’re never going to let me live this down… Right. Stealth, then. How did Obi sneak in in the first place?”

“In disguise, of course,” Qui-Gon answered. Considering what he knew of her, he frowned. “But I doubt you’re going to want to do that. The outfits the slaves wear don’t allow for much in the way of concealing a weapon, and they’re quite revealing… , really.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s get back to the ship and you can show me what I’m dealing with.”

A little over twenty minutes later, Qui-Gon watched on in amusement as Tanya looked over the holonet, showing examples of the slave outfit Obi-Wan had worn. Since she’d removed her helmet, he got to enjoy the sight of her look, the way her eye twitched, and the blush threatening to surface visible even with the red skin.

“And can’t I use an illusion?”

“There is a squad of at least ten guards stationed on duty at the entrance at all times, otherwise we would have used Mind Trick to get in. Scanners are built into the building’s entrances and placed on every exterior surface, constantly looking for breaches, damage, and potential infiltrators. And once through the scanners, all slaves are subject to a physical check for weapons before proceeding,” Qui-Gon supplied.

“I could just blast my way in, grab Obi, and level the building behind me, then take my ship and flee before their planetary security forces can respond. I’ve evaded them before.”

“That building is in a residential area. If it collapses, it could take out one of the megablocks surrounding it, injuring or potentially killing tens of thousands,” Qui-Gon pointed out.

“” she hissed. Finally, taking a deep breath, she let it out in what sounded very much to Qui-Gon like surrender. “…No pictures. Not a word of this to anyone. And we shall never speak of this again.”

Reaching up and stroking his beard, Qui-Gon hid a smile. “I can only guarantee one of those, I’m afraid.”

He stifled a laugh as she cursed and turned away, stomping towards the exit. “I’ll be back. I’m going to go buy the stupid costume.”